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#who held a bag of frozen peas on your neck???
frownyalfred · 1 year
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me: makes Clark hold Bruce up between his legs while he pukes his guts out after a mission gone wrong
me: THIS is male intimacy!!!
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
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congrats on 4k!! you deserve it leah 🫶💕
PL2 with scenario 32 (date gone wrong) and sentence 31 (“i won’t let anyone hurt you”) with mickey?
Protective Mickey is a weakness of mine through and through so thank you for attacking my weak spot. 
Warnings: Sexual Assault. Mickey Garcia x F!reader. Please do not read ahead of you are sensitive to topics that include sexual assault and unwanted advances.
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Mickey Garcia would throw his literal life on the line for you, he would give up his Mr ‘good guy’ Fanboy golden retriever energy to protect you from harm's way. He’d drop the gentle demeanour that he and Robert Floyd seemed to work pretty hard to maintain in a heartbeat to throw down with any man who put you in any form of danger, and he did just that, last night, when someone did just that, put his best friend in danger. 
Mickey, currently—could be found sitting at his desk with his knuckles bruised and a black eye. He was a mess to say the least and he most certainly wasn’t making the situation any better by watching the group chat pop off like he was the talk of the town. He knew come Monday morning he was gonna get a write up. But that was the least of his concerns. 
You were his number one priority. 
Mickey had snuck back into his room after he’d spent the better half of the night with his arms wrapped around you in a warm and ever so protective embrace with a bag of frozen peas from the freezer pressed to his eye. You were so out of it still but you managed to recognise the smell of Mickey's cologne, settling into his touch to wrap your arms around his tense shoulders.
Fanboy still wasn’t over it, he hadn’t slept all night. You would know because you too had laid awake all night just breathing in the familiar scent of Mickey Fanboy Garcia, still very much hungover, still very very dazed and confused. 
“Watching people spread falsified drama around town about you won’t help Mick.” You mumbled into Mickey's neck as you came to stand beside him at his desk, leaning over his shoulder as you watched the video Jake had sent to the group text of Mickey nearly beating the guy who’d spiked your drink and tried to take advantage of you, within an inch of his life play on his phone screen.
“S’not falsified, besides, can only see it through one eye so it’s only half as bad as it would be normally.” Mickey responded with a soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest as he held your hand that was gently playing with his chest hairs—firmly bringing it to his split lip and leaving a gentle kiss upon your palm. “Are you okay?” 
As you removed your arms from Mickey's body briefly, he spun around in his chair as you sat down comfortably into his lap—straddling his waist as you cradled his beaten up yet still so beautiful face between your hands. Your eyes glancing over every inch of him. You took  in everything before you as you shook your head. 
“No.” You held back a sob as tears threatened to spill over your lower lash line. You took a moment to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly—with your eyes closed tight, your body tensed up from remembering the events of the night prior. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**~
It was as impromptu as your presence in North Island was, you’d come to stay with Mickey for a week or two after you’d finished up your apprenticeship at the bakery back home. You needed a break, a reprieve from the mundane. 
So when you found yourself sitting across from some guy at one of the booths in the Hard Deck listening to him drone on about his latest tactical response time for the US Navy, you knew you were a little far gone when it all sounded like a blur of words you didn’t understand. 
“So you two never—?” Hangman asked as he bumped Fanboys shoulder with his as they played a casual game of pool. “She seems like a nice girl? I could probably take her home to mama Seresin and she’d probably approve.” Jake got a chuckle from Mickey as he took his shot before standing to look over at where you were, happily laughing away with this guy who’d stolen your attention. 
“Y/n’s just Y/n.” Mickey tried to play down the fact he’d been in love with you since the fourth grade. “And I like to see you try Hangman—she’s got standards.” Mickey napped back at Jake as his jaw slightly hung in utter disgust. 
“I’m uh—gonna go to the bathroom for a minute.” You made it a point to politely excuse yourself from the gentlemen who was sitting across from you. He nodded and took another sip of his drink as you rose to your feet—a little wobbly. God you always pushed it two far, your liver must’ve fucking hated you at this point. Poor little guy, you promised yourself you’d never drink this much again as you made your way towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Mickey caught your gaze. He just needed to know where you were was all. 
Although you threw up the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, thinking that it was just because you’d had a little bit too much to drink—willing yourself to lay off the alcohol for a while, you swore you hadn’t had that many cocktails. 
Everything was fuzzy as you sat on the somewhat clean bathroom floor with your head in your knees. You didn’t care about modesty or the fact that you were wearing a dress and if anyone walked in they would see your underwear. You didn’t care, but you would. 
You didn’t even notice when he walked in, you felt so off and incoherent  to the point you were almost blind it was a miracle you hadn’t said anything embarrassing. 
“I’m not feeling so good, Flyboy.” You tried focusing your eyes on the built man you thought was your best friend, only noticing the dark locks and firm shoulders that you held on to as he picked you up from the floor with ease and placed you on the marble countertop. It caused your dress to very much roll up your thighs, clearly exposing your panties. But you didn’t care, it was only Mickey? 
Right? 
“Mick? W-what are you?” You started to ask as the man who you thought was Mickey pulled your legs apart with ease, to tired, drunk, dazed and very confused to fight back at all.
“S’okay dollface, I’m gonna take real good care of you.” His lips attached themselves to your neck as you tried to move away. Like a succubus, the man made his way up the expanse of your neck. 
“Stop, Mickey, I'm serious! Get off me!?” You tried your hardest but it was to no avail, the man who now looked nothing like Mickey Garcia had pinned your hands above your head with one arm as he unfastened his belt and fly. 
“We were having such a good time out there, I thought maybe we could have a little more in here.” You were drunk, yes, but you knew you didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this, didn’t make any advances that could have led to this. The shock of the man pinning your arms cleared your eyes long enough for you to see it wasn’t Mickey - it was the guy you’d been on an impromptu date with and had flirted with for drinks all night. Turns out he wasn’t just buying you rounds, he’d spiked them too. “You’re so fucking sexy.” 
His hand was cold against your entrance as he pulled your panties to the side, he knew how high you were because he had fed you the drugs. Whatever the hell he’d spiked your last drink with.
“Y/n? You in there?” Jake asked as he knocked on the door. He tried his best to turn the handle but it was locked. “You ran in here like ten minutes ago?” A mumbled Jake Seresins voice broke through the haze and confusion as he knocked on the bathroom door which clearly stated ‘occupied’  
“HEL—!” You screamed, the man’s hand came up to cover your mouth before the p could leave your lips. Your worried eyes meet the man who stood between your legs as you struggled to breathe against his hand. 
“S’okay? We’re okay? Right dollface?” 
What he didn’t know? was that Jake had heard that. He knew it was you who just screamed, and he definitely didn’t like the sound of the last sentence he heard. Rage pumped through his veins as he barged against the flimsy door - catching the eye of Fanboy who was already on his way over after seeing Jake press his ear to the bathroom door, you’d been gone a hell of a lot longer than Mickey was comfortable with. What the hell was going on and where the bell was that dude you were just with? 
“Hangman? What’s wrong?”
“Y/n’s fucking in there! And I heard a guy's voice,  something’s not right” Mickeys heart sank as Jake barged against the door again. This was the Hard Deck. Things like this didn’t happen at the Hard Deck. 
Oh boy was Jake right because the guy you’d thought could have been a decent guy had almost his entire length inside you before the door came flying off its hinges - Jake and Mickey followed right after as the guy quickly pulled himself from you and started fixing his pants. 
Mickey took one look at the sight in front of him and felt his blood boil. With fire ignited in his heart he wasted no time grabbing the guy by his collar and slamming him to the wall—no questions asked. Mickey threw his first punch of the night as Jake picked you up and carried you out. 
“I got you—“ Jake soothed you as he assessed your state and immediately knew you weren’t all there. “Penny! I need you to call an ambulance and the fucking cops.” 
“THE FUCK GIVES YOU THE RIGHT!” Another punch landed against the guys face as Mickey seethed through gritted teeth. He saw nothing but red in front of him. How dare he touch you, assault you, violate your trust and kind heart. 
“I’ll fucking kill you before I walk out this door! Mother fucker! What gives you the right! To TOUCH her!?” Another punch landed, three to the nose in less than ten seconds. You can clearly see how the bruised hands came to be.
“She wanted it!” The guy cried out through a smirk and bloodied teeth before shoving Mickey off him and landing his one and only punch against Mickey of the night before he almost came close to visiting the gates of hell. 
It was all over pretty quick but it was long enough for videos to be taken and spread like wildfire- no context given. You really couldn’t in that moment of madness comprehend the severity of the situation. 
Jake handed you over to Mickey once he had finished talking with the police. Making sure a case would be brought against your attacker before talking with the medics to see if you needed to be admitted overnight, you quietly sobbed into his chest, confused and scared. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Was all you remember Mickey saying before you passed out, not really remembering the rest of the night until you were laying in silence against Mickey's chest—breathing in the familiar scent that is Mickey Fanboy Garcia. “But I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again, I promise.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊
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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years
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Could you write either ateez or skz caring for their s/o who has a concussion? Just from current experience, it can cause light sensitivity, noise sensitivity, ringing in the ears that comes and goes, and a headache that doesn't ever seem to really go away...
stray kids when their s/o has a concussion
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genre: hurt/comfort, slight angst in some
word count: 1k
warnings: mentions of injury
pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3
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bangchan
chan is angry and stressed. he's mad at himself for not being there for you in the first place. he feels that if he was there, he would've protected you, and none of this would have happened. so he's very frustrated and down on himself. and he's stressed because he is helpless. he can't do anything to make you feel better. as you sank into his arms, he held you close, arms encircling you in an affirming hug. a hug that told you he was never going to let go. one of his hands held an ice pack to your head as you cried softly into his chest because of the pain. and his heart broke even more.
"i'm so sorry i wasn't there when this happened. i won't let that mistake again."
minho
you both wear goofing around at home, both sitting on the floor with your backs to the wall, chatting and laughing hysterically at each other. at one point you laughed a little too hard, knocking your head back as you cackled hysterically at one of your boyfriend's remarks. but in the process, the back of your head collided with the wall. seeing your expression rapidly change from joy to discomfort made minho stop laughing too. his usual reaction when you made clumsy mistakes was to laugh and tease you, but he discerned that this circumstance was quite different. shuffling closer with concern, he held the back of your head and asked if were okay, pouting as your eyes filled up with tears.
"don't worry baby, don't cry. i'll take care of you."
changbin
he is concerned, even though you brushed it off and said your head didn't hurt that much. because he is so observant he almost notices straight away that there is a change in your behaviour. seeing you looking around with a dazed expression on your face, wincing slightly as the people around you start to talk and laugh loudly. he realises it wasn't a good idea to be around people today. he will pull you aside and ask if you're okay as you look at him weakly. he will hold your face with both his hands as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, giving you a soft gentle kiss.
"let's get out of here, yeah?"
hyunjin
you had a headache for the whole day because of your concussion. it wasn't like you to take the day off, but the pain really got to you. it was for the best. you don't help it, you were in that much pain. hyunjin hadn't known of your concussion before since he was at work, so when he came in to find you lying on the bed, curled up in your blankets burrito style, and a big pout on your face. he came straight to you saying how cute you were, until he realised the trace of pain in your eyes. he took you in his arms and lay beside you cuddling up and resting your head on his chest.
"my poor baby, i would've come straight home if you told me about this."
han
his eyes scanned the freezer quickly until he grabbed a big bag of peas. rushing to you, he scooped you up into his arms and placed you on the bed you both shared. he cooed when you whined in pain, his heart aching from seeing you in so much pain. one hand on the back of your head, he guided you closer to him, and as you nestled your face into his neck, he placed the peas on the crown of your head, shushing you and getting you to relax, even under the coldness of the frozen peas.
"i've got you baby. you've got nothing to worry about."
felix
you just got distracted by talking to felix. you talked as you bustled around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards to get ingredients out. you and felix were going to make brownies together for the first time, and you were so excited. perhaps too excited. with full force, you had opened a kitchen cupboard, and in effect smashed it against the side of your head as you were facing the other way. felix immediately came to your aid, holding your head close to his chest and asking if you were ok. you tried to laugh it off and say how stupid you were, but the pain really heart. felix rubbed circles on your forehead.
"i'm sorry for distracting you, baby. we can make brownies another time."
seungmin
seungmin's eyes shone with worry as he placed both of his hands on your ears. you told him they were ringing. well, they had been ringing all day. he looked around the room, trying to think of something, anything to help you. to find a solution to your problem. but he found nothing. and he didn't know what to do. he looked at you with glossy eyes as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, before deciding to lift you up and carry you to bed. after settling you down, he shuffled in with you, ready if you needed to cuddle him, willing to help in any way.
"rest, dear. i will be right here if you need me."
jeongin
he isn't sure what to do when you come home and tell him you have a concussion. he was confused and din't really know how to react. what was baffling to him was that you seemed to be fine. apart from holding your head and saying it hurt, you seemed to be functionally quite normally. that was, until, you started feeling dizzy. you couldn't walk straight and you pretty much tripped onto the sofa. he came over to you, concern starting to rise in him once he realised your head was hurting, bad. he placed a pillow under your head and made you as comfortable as possible. he stuck by you for the rest of the night.
"i had no idea it hurt that bad. let me take care of you for the night."
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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year
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Part 20
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Masterlist
Series masterlist
Part 19 🍂 Part 21
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Pairing: Syverson x ofc
Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"
Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, There's like a half-explicit description of a blowjob.
Word count: 1.3k
A/N: @keanureevesisbae has made it so that I now owe up until 25! Homegirl just keeps on keeping on. But we're getting there... Fun stuff coming up! Enjoy!
@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke
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“Woman, that car of yours is gonna be the death of me!” Tough luck, though, you told him, because you weren’t going through the process of getting another car. Besides, he was the one who had picked that one.
“What’s wrong with it, though?” You asked as you looked around the counter. “Grab me the peas from the freezer, would you?”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it,” Sy growled, “it’s just too small for normal people.” He held the bag of frozen peas to his forehead while he walked over to you. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit his head trying to get into your car, and you were fairly sure it wouldn’t be the last. Served him right, though, because you were somehow training your splits every time you had to get into that ridiculous truck of his.
“Didn’t feel like getting off your step?” he teased as he handed you the bag of peas. The two of you had a love-hate relationship with the way he teased you about your height. And by that you meant that you hated that he loved it, and he loved that you hated it.
“If I got down from here, I wouldn’t be able to do this,” you said before you kissed him on the head. “Besides, it’s not as if you qualify as ‘normal people’, you’re a giant.” Not back home in the Netherlands, though, he wasn’t even on the tall side of average there. But he didn’t need to know that. Sy didn’t have a fragile ego, but you were fairly sure it could be bruised, and calling him small in any capacity was probably the way to go at it if you wanted that to happen.
“Car’s fixed,” he just said, not wanting to get into that argument again. He wouldn’t want to risk overusing the ‘everything’s bigger in Texas’ line he loved so much.
“Thank you, honey,” you said sweetly, “what do I owe my favorite mechanic?”
“You ain’t ever gonna owe me nothin’, Sugar.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck gently before moving his mouth up to your ear. “But I’ll gladly take donations in the form of some quality time with you on your knees.” You looked at the dinner you were making. It had another 25 minutes of oven time in its future… You ordered Sy to toss the dish back in the oven, and he happily obliged. If you hadn’t asked him, he would have insisted: He didn’t like it when you had to get off your step stools you had stowed away in every corner of the house while holding hot things, heavy things, or any other kinds of things.
When he stood back up after doing what you asked, he grinned; you were already on your knees and eagerly undoing his belt. His own suggestion hadn’t left him cold, but there was room for improvement, you judged as you wrapped your fingers around him and gave him a few strokes. He looked down, which created the perfect opportunity for you to give him that look that always drove him crazy. It was simple – eyes wide, biting your lip – but effective, and you chuckled when you felt him grow harder in your hand.
“I coulda waited but I ain’t comp- fuck!” He gave up on trying to speak when your tongue hit the tip of his cock, and didn’t seem to regain the ability after that. You relished the swears and moans that Sy let out, and you laughed when he took a step back to lean against the kitchen table after a few minutes. The hand on the back of your head didn’t put any pressure on you, but you had to admit it was very nice to feel Sy’s fingers in your hair.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he groaned, and from the way he said it you could tell he was close. Now, how terrible would it have been if you both had a friend with a knack for walking in at precisely the wrong time…
“Well, I guess we’re square.” Jules. “I’ll give you guys a minute. To clean up, not to finish.”
“Kind o’ ya,” Sy said through gritted teeth. He turned to you when she was gone – after quickly sorting himself out. “Darlin’, you alright?” You shook your head. You were absolutely mortified by what had happened. How was Jules so casual about the whole thing?
“She ain’t seen anything, Sugar,” he tried to calm you down, but it didn’t work. You cleaned off and dove into Sy’s arms.
“Lara, Sy, everyone decent?” Jules asked from outside the kitchen. Sy begrudgingly answered her question. “I’m sorry, I should have knocked.” This was why you kept her around; yes, she was a handful and could be downright abrasive at times, but she was kind and generous and she didn’t hesitate to admit it when she was wrong.
“I forgot you guys were coming early, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fairly sure Jules won’t judge us for doing whatever we want with each other in our kitchen,” Sy said. There was clearly still some residual anger left in him from that fateful day Sy got kicked out of Jules’ and Patrick’s house.
“After what I said to you? Couldn’t possibly get pissed about it, now could I?” And that’s when the three of you started laughing.
“What do you mean ‘the engagement party is here’?” Sy yelled, scaring Jules and you – and even Pat, though he probably wouldn’t admit it. “Why did no one think to tell me? It can’t be here!”
“Why not, Sy?” “I live here, Sugar. That thing we said weeks ago? About those two –“ He pointed at Jules and Patrick. “- living in sin? That’s us now. Alright and them, but…”
“Come on, your parents can’t be that bad,” you said, but you saw Jules’ terrified look and immediately knew how wrong you were about that.
“Not that bad, but I’m tellin’ ya, Sugar, they ain’t gon’ like it. And my grandparents will have a heart attack.”
“But we don’t need to tell them you live here,” Jules tried carefully, “and your grandparents aren’t coming. They’re coming out for the wedding, though.”
“Half the stuff in that livin’ room is mine, Jules.” He had a very good point there.
“Big reaction back there,” you said after you’d sent Jules and Pat home. Sy had escaped to the bedroom and didn’t look like he was going to come out any time soon. “You scared me a little. What’s going on?” There had to be more to it than he was telling you.
“Jules,” he said to your surprise. “Somehow always gets to have it both ways. I love her to bits, don’t get me wrong, but… they’ll get to be the happy engaged couple, nobody needs to know they’re livin’ together, and I’m goin’ to get a bunch of shit from mom.”
“Is it really going to be that bad?”
“I can hear ma already,” he grinned. “’Johnathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with a woman you have no intention of marryin.’” He paused for a moment after he said it, and then abruptly turned to you. “Not that I don’t… Y’know what, Sugar, I’m just goin’ to shut up.” The face he made while he said it had you in stitches.
“Sy! You’re being ridiculous,” you said, but he gave you a look.
“Am I? You weren’t raised by them, darlin’.” His tone was almost mocking.
“Is there any way we can pretend we’re just roommates?”
“Won’t go over any better,” he sighed, “and I’d also be lyin’ to ‘em. ‘N I don’t wanna introduce you as ‘just a friend’, Sugar. Did that once. Never again.”
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Text
Grabbing Smoke
As much time as Sam spent with her best friends, sometimes she enjoyed a little bit of time alone.
Tucker was helping his mother bake cookies for some kind of fundraiser for the hospital, and Danny was busy visiting Pandora for fighting lessons. Apparently they were using swords today.
As fun as it sounded, Sam opted to stay behind, it had been a while since she'd been down to the park to feed the ducks. She didn't get quiet moments like that very often any more.
There was an uncharacteristic skip to her gait as she walked to the park, a canvas tote bag swinging from her arm.
Living in Amity Park, and especially hanging around with Danny, gave her an eerie sense to when something was amiss. Nothing quite like Danny's ghost sense, but she'd learned to detect a particular chill to the air, a prickling at the back of her neck. It could easily be mistaken for a chilly breeze, but Sam knew better. The crunch of gravel under Sam's boots was the only sound permeating the still air, not even the trees were rustling.
She continued her walk through the park, past the wishing fountain and through a trail where the trees grew slightly more dense.
The trail opened up to a large pond, it wasn't anything especially picturesque, the reeds were a little overgrown, the ground was muddy, but there were a few simple weather worn benches by the path that looped around the water.
Sam took a seat, pulling out a bag of frozen peas. She opened it, tipped a few into her hand and tossed them into the water.
The ducks immediately sped across the pond toward her, fighting for the peas that the turtles hadn't already gotten to.
Instead of grabbing another handful, she held the bag out to the empty seat to her left, waiting for a moment before shaking the bag impatiently.
A green hand slipped into the bag, pulling out a handful of peas before tossing them into the water.
"How'd you know I was here?" Kitty asked, now sitting visibly on the other end of the bench as Sam poured out more peas for both of them.
"I have my ways." Sam smirked. "What I want to know is why you've been following me all week."
"You knew for that long and you didn't say nothin'?" Kitty huffed. "Damn, I gotta up my game."
A duck waddled up and nibbled on her boot.
"Alright alright, ya hungry little doofus." Kitty lowered a hand full of peas and cooed as the duck happily ate from her palm. "Aww these guys aren't shy at all, do you come here a lot?"
"When I can." Sam tossed a few more peas into the water for the turtles. "So why are you following me?"
Kitty sat back and pressed her lips together, thinking.
"Look it's just... I don't remember much from when I was livin', you know? It's all sorta grey and fuzzy, I can't remember what anyone looked like, except Johnny." she tossed some peas to a smaller duck at the back of the group. "But as soon as I showed up here in town and I saw your face, I thought I felt... I dunno, somethin'. Like I'd seen you before, or maybe you just reminded me of someone, but I can't remember who, it's like grabbing smoke."
She lobbed a few peas a little harder than was necessary at the water. The turtles sucked them up greedily.
"So you've just been following me hoping you might remember something else?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Kitty sighed. "But it's not working."
Sam swung her foot idly between a pair of scuffling ducks, splitting them up before tossing out some more peas.
"Maybe I'm related to someone you knew. Where did you grow up?"
Kitty frowned down at the water.
"I... I don't know." she said, deflating somewhat. "I didn't even realise I forgot that."
Sam couldn't help but feel for her, Danny had told her that ghosts would often forget things from their past, especially once they'd been dead for longer than they'd been alive. Somehow she had never really considered how terrifying that must be.
"You know..." Sam started carefully. "I could show you some old family photos. Maybe you'll recognise someone?"
Kitty looked up, eyes shining brightly.
"Really? You'd do that for me?"
"Why not?" Sam shrugged. "If you were here to cause trouble you would have done it by now."
"Aw, I never thought you'd wanna do something like that for me." said Kitty, smiling brightly. "You always seemed like such a bitch."
Sam laughed.
"If you'd spent a week being someone that wasn't Paulina, I would probably have seemed like less of a bitch."
"So you guys are big rivals or somethin'?" Kitty asked, grabbing some more peas and giggling as three ducks tried to eat from her hand at once.
"It's more that we have... conflicting ideologies. She thinks that appearances and reputation are the most important things in life, just like my parents." Sam lobbed some more peas into the water, they both watched them disappear as the turtles quickly snapped them up. "It's shallow and stupid, and I don't get why they have to push that shit on everyone. I don't care what people think, I just want to be whoever the hell I wanna be without having to fight for it all the time."
Kitty's face turned contemplative as she tapped her nails on the back of the bench.
"I think... I was like that." she said, slowly. "I wanted to feel fun and exciting, but my parents..."
She trailed off, frowning.
"My parents... I didn't like them. They didn't like me bein' the way I was, I can't really remember why."
Sam emptied out the last of the peas and scattered them over the ground, she scrunched up the empty packet and shoved it back into her tote bag.
"You know, if we went to school together we would probably have gotten along." said Sam as she stood up, gesturing toward the path. "Let's go check out those photos."
Instead of floating invisibly behind, Kitty walked by Sam's side as they headed back to her house. She idly waved at people as they drove past, grinning when someone stared a little too long and almost ran a red light.
"You know, it's nice bein' able to walk around in the day." Kitty said, skipping a little. "Wish I could do it more often."
"What's stopping you?"
"What do you think?" Kitty's lip pulled up in disgust. "Any time I show up your dumb friend sucks me up in his stupid thermos. Only reason I can walk around right now is because I got you as my get out of jail free card."
"Danny doesn't care if you just want to walk around." Sam scoffed. "He lets ghosts wander around town all the time, he only gets involved when you start breaking things."
"Uggghhh but just walking around is so boring." Kitty pouted. "I mean yeah it's nice and I like it but it gets old real quick."
"Then you'll have to get used to getting tossed back in the ghost zone. Do not pass go, do not collect $200."
"Don't you ever get sick of his goody goody attitude?" Kitty asked. "I mean you and I aren't so different right? You're all about the rebel gig, don't you ever feel like keyin' some asshole's car, or takin' a baseball bat to some mail boxes?"
"Only if they deserve it." said Sam with a smirk. "But I feel like you aren't especially picky about whose stuff you're breaking."
They approached the door to the Manson mansion, Sam hopped up the steps and stuck the key in the lock. She touched the mezuzah on the doorpost without a second thought before opening the door and standing aside to invite Kitty in.
The ghost stared up at her warily.
"I can't get past it."
"Past what?" Sam asked.
"The mezuzah, it keeps me out."
"What?" Sam frowned. "It hasn't stopped other ghosts from getting in."
"Well it stops me." Kitty insisted. "I think it's got somethin' to do with what we believed in when we were alive. I haven't got a problem with churches but when Johnny tried to ride his bike through one he couldn't get in. His mom raised him Catholic, he says he doesn't believe in any of that stuff, but I think he still does, deep down."
"So does that mean you were Jewish?" Sam asked, smiling curiously.
"I AM Jewish." Kitty crossed her arms. "Bein' a ghost hasn't changed that, it just... means that we got a few things a little wrong."
Sam thought about that for a moment, before stepping aside and gesturing toward the door again.
"Well, if you've been invited and you're not going to cause any trouble, then I don't see why you shouldn't be able to come in."
Kitty climbed the steps slowly, fingers reaching out and cautiously brushing over the mezuzah, she didn't feel anything unusual, no zap or burn or pain. She took a step through the doorway and passed the threshold without issue, no invisible force or barrier like the last time she tried to follow Sam inside.
"Well, what do you know." she said, grinning.
Sam lead her into a large, open planned kitchen and dining area, the tiles were bright white save for the specks of mud Sam's boots tracked through the room. The decor was minimalist, the atmosphere bland and sterile, she could smell some kind of citrus surface cleaner.
The back wall was all windows, leading to a patio surrounded by perfectly trimmed grass. As they approached, Sam turned, heading towards a door to their right.
The next room felt a lot more friendly, it was full of bookshelves and red tones. The lounges looked soft and inviting, a fireplace sat cold and empty against the back wall, but Kitty didn't have to try hard to imagine it roaring to life, filling the room with its warm glow.
"This is basically my Grandma's part of the house." Sam informed her, voice low. "Her bedroom is just through there, she's usually napping around this time of day so try not to make too much noise."
Kitty slipped off her jacket and laid it over the back of the lounge, already feeling at home in the cosy little room. She looked over the books as Sam fussed around some kind of large ornate chest.
"Here it is." She hefted a large photo album from the chest, carefully closing and latching it again. "Let's see if you recognise anyone in here."
Kitty sat down beside Sam as she opened up the pristine book, the outer cover was beige with the name Manson inscribed in golden cursive on the front. The first page was full of old faded photos, in greyscale or sepia tones.
"Ugh, I'm not that old." said Kitty, flicking ahead a few pages.
The pictures were colourful now, but still grainy, there was a young blonde boy in seventies style jeans leaning casually against a Chevrolet.
"Wait hold up," Kitty pointed at the boy. "Him, I feel like I've seen him before."
"That's my dad." said Sam, surprised. "His name is Jeremy, did you know him?"
Kitty hummed a little, gently tracing a finger over the picture.
"Jeremy... Jeremy, I'm not sure," she frowned. "But he definitely looks familiar."
They continued through the book, when suddenly Kitty slapped her hand down roughly on a photo of a pair of young women.
"Her! I know her! She was a mega bitch!"
"Shhh keep it down." Sam hissed.
"Sorry," Kitty pointed to the blonde girl in the photo. "That one! I don't know how I knew her, but I definitely knew her. She was a total brat."
Sam slipped the photo out of its sleeve and read the neat cursive on the back.
"This is... my Aunt Caroline, in 1985. She's my dad's sister." Sam looked up at Kitty, amused. "I can't believe you had beef with my family."
"Your family are snobs." Kitty sniffed. "Carrie was such a ditz, she thought she was sooo bitchin' because her daddy bought her a Mercedes."
"Yeah, that sounds about right." Sam grimaced. "Did you guys go to school together or something?"
"Maybe..." Kitty took the photo from Sam's hand, staring intently. "I'm pretty sure I skipped school a lot, I hated it there. It was a private school, we had to wear uniforms, barf."
"I would never have guessed you were a private school kid." Sam shook her head. "But most people would say that about me so it's not like I can judge."
"You went to private school?" Kitty asked, "How'd you end up in that Casper High dump?"
"Got myself expelled." said Sam, voice thick with pride. "Elementary, middle and high school, got kicked out of all three."
"Damn, you're good."
Sam grinned, slipping the photo back in its sleeve and continuing to the next page.
Kitty pointed to a few other photos, remarking on their familiarity, but not quite able to grasp how she knew them, the memories only flickered in her periphery.
"Wait," Kitty whispered, fingers brushing over a polaroid containing three people. "This is..."
The picture looked as though it were taken at some kind of party, a man and a woman faced the camera, each with a glass of champagne raised in their hands. The woman's other hand rested on the shoulder of a teenage girl with auburn hair, pulled into a tidy braid. She stared glumly at the camera.
"That's Katherine." Sam said, pointing to the girl. "She was my dad's cousin, but she got hit by a car when she was-"
Sam paused, looking over at Kitty's wide eyes and then back to the photo.
"Noooo way." Sam pulled the photo out of the sleeve. "Is this you?"
Kitty took the photo in trembling hands.
"I... I forgot I used to look like that." she fiddled with a lock of her green, teased hair. "I remember this party, I didn't want to go but mom and dad threatened to take away all my records and cassettes if I didn't."
Sam stared at Kitty, mouth agape.
"You're Car Crash Katherine?! My dad talks about you all the time! He always told me about the shit you used to get up to, he'd tell me that any kind of 'rebellious behaviour' was a slippery slope to 'dying on the back of some delinquent's motorcycle'." Sam put a hand on Kitty's shoulder. "You were my bad influence role model."
Kitty's red eyes shone with tears, photo still in hand, she wrapped her arms around Sam.
"This is majorly wicked! My legacy lives on! Corrupting the youth from beyond the grave!" Kitty laughed. "My parents would go totally mental."
She stopped laughing, her face turning forlorn as she drew back from Sam and stared down at the picture.
"Are they still alive?" she asked, a tremble in her voice.
"Yeah..." said Sam. "They live in a retirement home in Florida. They don't come around very often."
Kitty traced a finger over their faces.
"I wonder if they miss me." she said quietly. "Or if they were glad to be rid of the family embarrassment."
Sam didn't answer, she had wondered the same thing herself, if her parents would even care if she died. They hadn't given her a lot of reason to think they would.
She rested a sympathetic hand on Kitty's arm.
"Oh, you have a friend over bubbeleh?" a croaky voice spoke from the bedroom doorway.
Sam and Kitty both turned to see Ida Manson shuffling into the room, cleaning her glasses with her sleeve.
"Sorry Grandma, we didn't mean to be too loud." Sam apologised. "This is my... um, friend, Kitty. Kitty this is my Grandma Ida-"
"Ida?!" Kitty shot to her feet, staring in shock at the old woman. "Aunt Ida?!"
Ida squinted at Kitty, before quickly setting her glasses back on her face.
"Well as I live and breath, is that you Kathy?"
"Oh my god this is getting super weird." Sam whispered.
Kitty leapt over the ottoman to wrap Ida up in a tight hug, the old woman was surprised for a moment, but held her warmly in return.
"It's me Aunt Ida! Not really living or breathing but it's me!" Kitty laughed breathlessly.
"Oh my goodness, when all the ghosts started showing up all over town I wondered if I would ever see someone I knew." She rubbed comforting circles on Kitty's back as the ghost choked on a few sobs. "It's good to see you again Kathy."
Ida pulled away and wiped a tear from Kitty's face.
"And I'm so glad you aren't stuck wearing what your parents buried you in."
Kitty couldn't help but laugh through her tears.
"Let me guess, it was that putrid blue dress, wasn't it?"
"The dress wasn't nearly as bad as what they did to your hair." Ida snickered, patting Kitty's hand. "It had little ribbons in it and everything."
"I almost forgot you." Kitty placed her palm gently against Ida's face. "You were the only one in the family who ever loved me for being me, and I almost forgot you. I'm so sorry, I should have come to find you sooner but I just-"
"Shhhh, it's okay bubbeleh." Ida grasped her hand tight. "I think being dead is a pretty good excuse for forgetting a few things."
Sam stood beside the lounge, watching the two in shock, she wasn't entirely certain whether or not to intrude. Whatever she had been expecting to discover with Kitty today, it certainly hadn't been this.
Though in hindsight, it did explain Kitty's familiarity with Sam, people always said she had taken after her Grandma.
Ida let go of Kitty and hobbled over to the photo album still sitting on the lounge.
"Oh you don't want to look at that album." she said, as she shoved it onto the coffee table. She wandered to the other side of the room and began rummaging around in a small cupboard. "You want this one."
She pulled out a book with well worn, peeling edges. Pieces of the plastic sleeves had cracked off and crumbled away. It was old, and weatherbeaten, it was obvious that Ida had looked through it many many times.
"Here we go." she sat down in the middle of the lounge, gesturing for the two girls to come sit beside her. "These are the forbidden photos."
She opened the pages, the photos inside were entirely different from the 'official' album, there were no perfectly poised, prim and proper photos of people in nice, presentable clothes. They were all candid shots, people in the middle of eating or laughing, some were stumbling around blind drunk, a few were smoking joints. There were pictures from parties and protest rallies, in backyards and drive ins.
There was a picture of Jeremy as a young boy, grinning with one of his front teeth missing and grass in his hair.
"Only in this family would losing your baby teeth make a photo 'unsavoury'." Ida grizzled as she continued through the album. "I saved so many pictures that my husband would have thrown out otherwise."
"Ugh, Uncle Peter was such a prude, he wouldn't even let me in the house if I didn't have my shoulders covered up." Kitty rolled her eyes.
"He used to be so much more relaxed when we were young." Ida sighed. "He changed when he inherited his father's business, he forgot how to have fun."
A few pages later Kitty squealed in excitement.
"Oh my god! That's Frankie! She was my best friend, we used to do everything together!"
The Kitty in the photo looked far more like the Kitty Sam knew. Her hair was teased up, and she was wearing a crop top and a miniskirt. The other girl, Frankie, had short curled hair and a leather jacket. They each had an arm around the others' shoulder and grinned wildly.
"I love this one." Ida smiled as she pulled the picture out of the sleeve. "That was the night I gave you a lift to that concert."
"Oh that show was sooo good! I got my nose pierced there! It got so infected, Mom grounded me for a month." Kitty laughed.
"Man, and I thought I was cool for skipping school to go see Circus Gothica." Sam grinned. "I'm gonna have to come home with a tattoo next time."
"I can't believe I forgot about Frankie, I can't believe I forgot about all of this." Kitty held the photo close to her chest, a few tears running down her face. "I'm so glad it's not gone for good."
She kept the photo in hand as they looked through the rest of the album. There were many pictures of Ida, all of them with other people of all walks of life.
"Oh this was when you took us to that pride parade!" Kitty smiled. "You made Frankie so happy, and you knew a lot of the drag queens there, like a LOT."
"Grandma took me to a drag show when I was 10," said Sam. "Even took me backstage to meet them all, my parents thought we went to the theatre to see Romeo and Juliet."
"Oh I have photos from that." Ida flipped through the pages, getting closer to the end of the album. "Here we are, oh Evelyn just LOVED you."
Sam looked at the picture of Evelyn, frowning slightly.
"Oh weird, she kinda looks like Mr Lancer's sister, he keeps her photo on his desk..." Sam paused as she processed what she just said. "That's not his sister is it?"
"You probably shouldn't bring it up." said Ida gently. "Teachers can get in trouble for associating with this sort of thing."
"That's so bogus!" Kitty cried. "I really thought this kinda stuff would be better in the future!"
"It is," Ida assured her. "But we're a long way from perfect."
Ida flipped back through the album, searching for more pictures of Kitty and Frankie. There were a good few of them, each one Ida pulled out and passed over for Kitty to look at and hold onto.
"Oh woah, is that Johnny?" Sam pointed to a picture of Kitty sitting on the back of a motorcycle with a blonde boy. "He looks exactly the same, just a little less pale."
"Oh, did Johnny come back as a ghost too?" Ida asked.
"Yeah! We've been together all this time, in sickness and in death." Kitty beamed. "Mom and dad blamed him for everything I did, even if he wasn't around when I did it. They said him and Frankie were 'corrupting' me."
She rolled her eyes.
"I bet they blamed him for my death too. They'd be so mad if they knew we were still together."
"Just goes to show they had no chance of keeping you two apart." Ida said. "Not even death could do that."
Kitty held the photo tight in both hands, her shoulders began to shake slightly.
"It was my fault you know." she said with a trembling little giggle. "Funny huh? My parents always blamed him for everything, but in the end it was my fault we got hit. We were havin' a fight over somethin' stupid and I distracted him-"
Ida wrapped an arm around Kitty, patting her head comfortingly as she laid it against the old woman's shoulder.
"I think you're being too hard on yourself bubbeleh." Ida whispered gently into her hair. "It was raining, the truck that hit you was running a red light, the driver was charged for both your deaths. Even if you did distract him, you weren't the only card at play that night."
She gave Kitty a light shake.
"And don't think I didn't see the way Johnny used to drive that thing, he was reckless. I have no doubt that he wasn't paying as much attention as he should have been." She placed a kiss on the girl's forehead and squeezed her tight. "It's not fair to hold all of that responsibility on yourself, even if you both did everything right, that truck still would have run that red light, it still would have been raining. It was just pure rotten luck."
Sam had never heard a ghost talk about their death before, even Danny didn't like talking about his accident, and asking about it was incredibly taboo. Sam had been pushing her luck earlier just by mentioning the car crash.
It said a lot about Kitty's love for Ida that she chose to open up about it. Sam couldn't say she was surprised, her Grandma had always been like that. Never anything but an endless well of love and support, and the occasional kick in the pants if you needed it.
"Johnny's always had rotten luck." Kitty sniffed. "Follows him like a shadow."
"Literally." Sam snorted.
After a few more moments, Ida pulled herself away from Kitty, she got up and began rooting through the cupboards, muttering to herself.
"Aha, here it is."
She brought over an empty photo album, it was roughly the size of a small pocketbook, containing only one photo sleeve per page.
"I meant to fill this with photos for Sam to keep." Ida admitted as she shuffled back over to the girls. "But I don't think she'll mind donating it to a good cause."
She winked at Sam, who nodded back.
"Here," Ida pressed the little album into Kitty's hands. "Memories are a fickle thing, but photos are forever."
"I can't take these!" Kitty insisted, pushing the album back. "They're your memories too!"
"Oh my god you're both so old." Sam laughed, "Dad has a printer/scanner. I can make copies."
As Sam took the polaroids to her dad's office, Ida and Kitty pored over the rest of the album, Kitty picking out more photos to copy. She chose a few of Ida and Sam, and even one of Carrie.
"She was a total loser and I hated her but I don't hate remembering her, you know? I want to remember everything, even the bad stuff."
She took a photo of her parents, just one.
When Sam came back with the last batch of photos, Ida finished slipping them into the little album.
"There's still a few sleeves left." Sam pointed out, holding up her phone with a smile. "We've got room for a couple of family reunion pics."
The two girls squished up against Ida as Sam snapped as many shots as she could. Ones where they smiled, ones where they laughed, ones where they laid haphazardly across the lounge together.
Then Sam took a few candids of just Kitty and Ida, as they looked through the new album they'd just made together. Capturing Kitty laughing at something as Ida looked at her with a soft, loving smile.
Kitty clutched the album to her chest as she gave Ida a long, drawn out hug.
"Thank you so much." she said, her voice thick with gratitude. "It's like I can see my life in colour again."
She left the house with the assurance that she would always be welcome back, at any time, and a promise that she would always be looking out for her 'new favourite cousin'.
Sam flicked through the photos she took on her phone, she would have to make sure to have copies printed by the time Kitty returned to visit.
She knew Kitty coming over regularly was going to make things complicated, her apparent newfound protectiveness over Sam could potentially backfire in many spectacular ways, she was petty and troublesome when in the right mood.
But then again, so was Ida, and so was Sam.
At least she had better things to do now than beat up strangers' mail boxes, Danny was certainly going to be glad to hear that.
656 notes · View notes
biisexualemma · 3 years
Text
ready. bucky barnes
word count: 2426
warnings: not really, brief mention of anxiety? i guess but really just fluffy and flirty with a bit of angst
requested: nope i wrote this literally years ago
plot: bucky is constantly flirting with you, until he think you don’t like him back
a/n: can’t decide if i like this but it’s late and i’ve edited this so many times and i can’t look at it anymore so here lol
masterlist
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"hey, pretty girl,” bucky's voice was instantly recognisable, so turning in your seat you weren't surprised to see him entering the kitchen.
"hey," you tightened your lips into a sweet smile. bucky was always nice to you, sometimes kind of flirty but you liked it. besides, it was more than you could say for his relationships with most of the avengers.
the day was red hot, you had all the windows open and still you were sweating like a pig. that’s why bucky had to walk in to see you sat at the island in the kitchen area, frozen peas sitting atop your head and a lolly ice hanging out your mouth.
"lolly ice?" you offered, removing yours from your mouth to make the offer. he shook his head, pursing his lips to stop himself from laughing at you. you knew you looked stupid but you were sweaty, and this was helping.
"you look pretty hot," he commented. he wandered over to the fridge but his eyes travelled to where you sat only in shorts and a spaghetti strap top. he gulped, quickly shifting his eyes away before you could catch him staring, sticking his head in the fridge to cool down. "literally,” he mumbled.
you nodded, absentmindedly as you spun in your chair again, your eyes following his every move. you wondered how he looked so put together when it was so hot. "tony's got someone working on the ac.”
"i don't know why he doesn't do it himself," you hummed in agreement.
“yeah— he calls himself a tech genius but can’t even fix the air con— make it make sense,” he chuckled a little along with you. it was one of your many shared interests, making fun of tony.
finishing your lolly ice you slid off your chair, removing the peas from your head and walked to the bin to recycle the stick. bucky was crouched down in front of the fridge still, his backside standing between you and the bin. "uh— 'scuse me.”
bucky glanced over his shoulder, seeing you hovering above him waiting for him to budge. straightening himself up again, he leaned against the fridge, blocking your path still and his arms folded across his chest. "password?"
you rolled your eyes, cracking a small laugh at his behaviour. "stop, just let me through."
"i'm serious," the forming smirk on his lips said otherwise. "what's the password, sweetheart?"
the pet name rolled casually off his tongue, like it was just as common for him to call you this as your own name. you didn’t let it shake you. you were an expert when it came to bucky and his flirting at this point, you just had to not play into what he wanted.
"fine, be that way,” you flung the lolly ice stick over him, landing it in the recycling bin.
you smiled knowingly and he shoved you lightly. "cheater," he mumbled with an amused smile, grabbing a beer from the fridge and catching your shoulder as he walked passed you.
you liked to tease bucky when he would flirt with you, by not playing into it, he tended to just give up quicker.
sometimes you thought he might be serious, which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but you also knew you weren't ready for that conversation. you also didn't want to embarrass yourself by assuming he actually liked you in the first place. it was complicated, at least, it was for you.
"you know, you should wear this more often," his voice rang through your ears, goosebumps running down your neck. you could feel him standing behind you, hardly much distance between the two of you now.
you turned to face him, finding yourself practically nose to nose. you gulped with the newfound closeness and lost your words for a second, your lips parting slightly and nothing coming out. his eyes moved down to your lips, noticing your blunder as a small smile came onto his face. he was always looking for little hints that you felt something back, that his efforts weren't being completely lost.
you squealed, flinching when the cold beer bottle come into contact with your hot skin, pulling you out of your haze. you stepped back from him, creating some much needed space but evidently confused why he defused the heated situation so quickly.
"jeez’, bucky," you weren't angry, your defence was more to do with the fact that he'd caught you flustered by him.
"sorry, you looked a little dazed," he wore a knowing smile. you tried to play off the embarrassed flush in your cheeks as due to the heat. but you both knew you'd gotten caught up in his flirting.
you told yourself most of the time that bucky’s flirting was playful— that it wasn’t flirting at all, he was just trying to be friendly. you had to tell yourself something to stop yourself from falling for him every time he’d look at you like that.
you forced a smile, pulling yourself away from his stare for a second to shake your head. "whatever,” calmly you brushed his shoulder to walk away from him, choosing to ignore whatever was going on here.
you were halted by him grabbing your forearm, the cool metal from his hand was surprisingly pleasant against your flushed skin.
"wait," his eyebrows knitted together softly when you looked at him this time, the smile and amusement practically wiped from his face. he spoke, cutting the tension that was growing more and more with every second. "do you really not like me back?"
your lips parted slightly, stunned by his forwardness. you’d never had this conversation before, you weren’t ready for this conversation. though you’d always suspected he had a bit of a crush, you tried not to encourage it. not because you didn't feel the same way, but because you just weren’t ready for any of what came after a crush.
"you— like me?"
bucky's eyebrows unknitted, glancing away from you for a second and choking out a short, fake laugh. "was it not obvious?"
you shook your head, quickly correcting yourself when his smile began to fade. "well— no— yeah. kinda. i don't know— i guess i—“ you didn’t know how to finish your sentence. you wanted to tell him you felt the same, but you were not ready for this. so you stopped yourself from saying anything. “i don’t know what i thought,” you said, defeatedly.
"right,” he nodded, slightly hurt that he’d let himself get caught up in something that wasn’t real. “i get it,” he stepped back and loosened his grip on your arm letting it fall back to your side. "sorry. that was awkward. i didn't mean to make this weird for you."
"you didn't make it weird, buck," you tried to assure him because you really didn't want him to take back what he'd said.
"it's alright, y/n,” he forced a smile, despite the knock back. "see you at training."
"buck—" you spoke softly, as he walked passed you, missing your shoulder and leaving you alone again. your hand slipping from his wrist as you tried to hold him back. your heart felt heavy, that felt wrong.
you didn't see bucky again until you got to training later on that evening. you had been scheduled to train with bucky and sam, but steve informed you when you arrived that he'd switched it around so you were paired with wanda and himself.
you’d spent the rest of the day reliving your conversation with bucky, full of guilt. you couldn’t think about anything else, it was consuming you. bucky liked you, and you crushed him by not telling him how you felt. all because you were scared.
the whole session was a nightmare, your mind was elsewhere the entire time with bucky training on the other side of the room. you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing in his direction every few minutes. he looked a little off his game too.
you'd taken a few hits, you were far too distracted to be memorising steve’s fighting patterns. you found yourself muttering apologies throughout the entire session. even wanda managed to knock you on your ass, and she was possibly the weakest when it came to no-magic hand-to-hand combat.
you caught bucky’s eye as you fell, slamming into the mat, your breathing heavy as you lay exhausted on your back. both steve and wanda towered over you. eventually steve held out his hand after giving you a breather, wincing as he pulled you back onto your feet. "sorry," you mumbled for the hundredth time, tucking a few loose, sweaty hairs out of your face.
“alright, that’s enough for today,” steve ordered, his eyebrows knitted softly as he watched you pant. you weakly tried to protest but he was firm.
“we all have off days, don’t worry about it,” wanda tried to reassure you with a soft smile, handing you a bottle of water which you accepted thankfully and gulped down.
you could feel bucky watching you, your eyes trailing over to him but he looked away just as quickly, only just dodging sam’s fist.
"hey— where was your head tonight?" steve nudged your shoulder, bringing you out of your daze again, as he'd been doing all night. your eyes moved away from bucky who was now packing up his stuff. you looked at steve, who was wearing his concerned-dad expression that you’d seen one too many times, and shrugged your shoulders.
"i dunno’, probably just the heat,” you lugged your bag over your shoulder as you began to leave the gym, walking backwards to continue your conversation with cap.
"i thought tony fixed the ac—"
"i gotta go. see you tomorrow, cap."
you rushed out of the gym, chasing bucky who had left minutes before you, only being held back by your conversation with steve. you groaned as you realised bucky was nowhere to be seen. you had decided halfway through training that you needed to talk to him. a couple of hits to your head seemed to knock a bit of sense into you.
after navigating the maze-like corridors you reached the avengers private quarters. passing your own room, speed walking down the corridor, reaching bucky's room and knocking quickly before you could chicken out.
"hey," he smiled, opening up his door, still in his training gear and trying to act as if nothing was wrong. but you could feel the wrong kind of tension between you two now. you didn't want things to be like this from now on. "whats up?"
"can i come in?" you asked. your breathing was heavier than usual, your nerves were getting the better of you. "i need to talk about earlier," he sighed, you caught wind of his exhaustion but he opened his door to you anyway letting you in.
you clutched onto your hands tight. you had to just tell him otherwise things would be bad between you two whether either of you decided to acknowledge it or not. so after you heard the door shut, you spun around to face him again, fiddling with your hands as you parted your lips to speak.
"bucky, i didn't mean to make you feel bad before,” you started.
"i already told you its alright, y/n,” he shrugged. “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” but you shook your head, pacing closer to him.
"you didn't let me explain," you pleaded. you pulled at your fingers, a bad habit you had when you were nervous. "i don't not like you, i'm just... i’m scared,” your voice grew softer the nearer you got to finishing your sentence.
you forced eye contact with him, trying to convey your sincerity. "i've never had this before. i don't know how to respond to your flirting and its not that i'm not interested— because i am. i really am. i just don't— i don't know how to do this."
your nervous habit worsened when he didn't speak afterwards, you were worried that you were too honest with him. this is is why you didn't want to tell him, you didn't want him to judge you.
so you were surprised when he reached out his hands, clasping his own arounds yours. he let a warm, hesitant smile work onto his lips, sending you silent reassurance and calming your nerves slightly.
"i didn't mean to make things worse,” you apologised.
“no—“ he shook his head. "no— it's ok."
"it is?" you questioned. you weren't one hundred percent convinced that everything was ok with the two of you. you didn't know where you stood now. he nodded. "but—"
"it's fine. we can take it slow, if you’re not ready,” he squeezed your hand gently. "i'm still refreshing my memory anyway. all i have to go off are expired moves."
your lips parted into an unsure smile. "y’sure?"
"yeah, why wouldn't i be?"
you shrugged. "i don't know."
you were still scared in all honesty. this would be your first relationship, your first anything. and you knew this wasn’t bucky’s first anything. you felt like your definition of slow could mean something completely different to his.
"what's going on in that head?" he mumbled, noticing your glossy expression, using your entangled hands to pull you closer to him. you gulped now that he was inches away from you again.
bucky gave your hands a gentle squeeze, sensing your unease. he shook his head. “you don’t have to worry.”
you nodded, biting down on the inside of your cheek. he eyes scanned your face, noticing your slight furrowed brow and wide eyes. “i heard you when you said you weren’t ready,” he practically whispered, your eyes meeting his again when he did. he moved one hand to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. your eyes drooped shut, relaxing against his warm skin, a complete contrast to the cold of his metal hand you’d felt earlier. there was something reassuring about the way he was holding you, it made you feel safe. “we can go at your pace.”
he seemed to sense your anxiety before it could consume you, you didn’t know how he did it.
you released a soft, shy smile. "thank you," you spoke quietly, unsure how to react and respond to him still. you just knew you were grateful for him. “i like you, a lot, buck,” a smile started to emerge on his lips, your stomach twisting. "jus' don’t forget that.”
he shook his head. “i won’t.”
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anotheranimestan · 4 years
Note
hi! I just read “all bark no bite” and omg it was so good!! looking forward to more of your writing and possible a part 2 if you get the chance!
Thank you!!!!!😃🧡 Your wish is my command!
All Bark No Bite (pt. 2)
Bakugo angst + sexual tensionnnn
Read part 1 here
wc: 3k
I hope this is as fun for you to read as it is for me to write! Also why is he 👇 this fineee for no reason.
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The next morning, you woke up trying to convince yourself it was all a dream...or a nightmare. But the way you could still feel the softness of his fingers around your neck completely contradicted your wishes. You also had to keep wiping little smiles off your face throughout your entire morning routine. You tried to combat them by listing all the things you hated about Bakugo but it was helpless. Every train of thought ended with the shape of his lips and how nicely they molded with yours.
You and Mina walked to class together and you swore she’d developed a mind reading quirk. You felt her eyes on you like a blazing sun. Although this was really all in your head. She only asked “are you okay?” because you kept looking at her like you’d committed a hate crime.
You and Bakugo didn’t look at each other once during class. No leg shaking, pen stealing or insults. Not even a well timed scoff when you were called on to answer a question. You tried your best to clear your mind and forget everything that had occurred in that hall last night. After a while of this torture you even were having a little bit of success.
But of course your peace was ruined as you walked to lunch. He couldn’t let you have anything. And of course he wasn’t going to leave you alone.
“Hey Little Bite, I hear we get to pick our groups for combat training today. All Might is going to make me a team captain, obviously. So if you want to be on my team let me know. I mean I assume you don’t wanna lose. You just gotta ask me nicely.” His usual cocky tone crept under your skin.
You desperately tried to ignore him as he followed you. Each footstep he started gaining on you being more annoying than the last. But what really did it was the pencil he threw at your head.
“Please, actively do not pick me.”
He ignored your objection and continued on his line of bullshit.
“I suppose I could take you. Your quirk would be useless, I’m all the attack power we’d need to win but I could use you as a decoy or something.”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to be on a team with you, moron. Your pea brain doesn’t know how to do anything but blow shit up. You’re like an explosive cave man. Besides being too close to you for too long makes me wanna vomit.”
He cackled. You knew exactly what he was thinking and immediately regretted your words.
“That’s weird—“
You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at his head. But he just caught it and made it explode with a smug look on his face.
“Ugh. I cannot stand you.” You groaned.
“You sure about that?” He said with a suggestive eyebrow.
He was so hot....it made you want to punch him in the throat. Without thinking you shrugged off your backpack and swung it at his face. His reflexes bested you again though and he caught the bag, yanking it from you. The force was harder than you expected, it sent you flying into his chest. You both tumbled to the ground and landed shoulder to shoulder. Your skull hit a small rock with a wack. Rubbing the back of your head, shooting pain surfaced.
“Ow!! That fucking hurt dumbass!”
“Sor—“
You swung your arm, aiming to kill, and hit him in the stomach.
It must have really knocked the wind out of him because he made a loud grunting noise that hinted at his surprise. It wasn’t often people got to land a punch on Katsuki Bakugo. King Explosion Murder.
“Do that shit again Little Bite! You’ll regret it!” He grabbed your wrist, attempting to clear a way to get you back. You both started wresting trying to punch each other in the gut. Literally rolling around in the grass in a red hot death match of who could out curse the other.
“Omg, are you guys about to kiss right now?” Mina teased from out of absolutely nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.
You both froze solid as the blood drained from your face. She knew about last night? How did she find out?!
“You told her!?” Bakugo’s entire face was contorting through a whole range of emotions. Shock, horror, embarrassment, accusation, cheekiness, embarrassment again.
“What!?” You panicked. “No! I didn’t!” You swear you didn’t. You replayed your whole morning in your head just to double check.
You turned to your pink friend. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. You watched the gears turn in her head as she realized she’d stumbled upon a miraculously juicy discovery.
“OH. MY. GOD!!! No freaking way!!” She squealed unable to contain herself.
She started blabbering as she attempted to cope with this information. She had absolutely no idea what to do with it.
Your stomach fell as you realized this fatal error. Wait....this wasn’t your error. You pushed him off you and you both scrambled to your feet.
“This is your fault! Why’d you say that!” You shoved a finger in Bakugo’s chest. Which actually hurt because....he’s solid.
“Don’t yell at me!” He yelled back at an even louder volume.
Mina started running around in little circles. “They kissed!!!” She then abruptly stopped in her tracks and you watched a lightbulb flicker on.
No.....
“KIRISHIMA!!!! KAMINARI!!!” She screamed as she ran toward the cafeteria.
“MINA DONT YOU FUCKING DA—“ Bakugo exploded into a full sprint to chase her down. But she was like a rocket.
You chased after them desperately trying to reconcile all this is your mind. But it was no use, your brain was melting. Everyone was about to find out. The relentless jokes...they would never end. You could die right here.
Both of them ran so fast you fell horribly behind. By the time you rounded the corner and caught up to them a whole event had already taken place.
Bakugo was screaming on the top of his lungs. You could practically see the steam coming off the top of his head.
Kaminari was standing there in his stupid form with a half torn shirt. Jesus, what did Bakugo do to him?
Mina and Kirishima were laying on the ground, their face covered in tears. They were laughing so hard no sounds were even coming out.
“Oh my god,” Mina squeaked out between gasps for air, “Bakugo has a crush.”
“It’s so adorable!” Kirishima said wiping the tears from his eyes as he attempted to stop laughing. With no success, they both bursted again after seeing Bakugo slamming his fists into the grass. The teasing was making him want to rip his eyes out. He couldn’t stand it.
“Shut up Kirishima!!!” He jumped on top of his friend and started repeatedly banging his head into the ground. Of course this did absolutely nothing to the hard head. It just made him laugh even more.
Poor Denki just stood there drooling with a little smile on his face and giggling.
You were frozen. Stunned. It was like watching a comedy movie in which you were the punchline.
But all the laughs fell a silent as a furious voice cut through the air.
“What is this.” It wasn’t a question. Mr. Aizawa looked like he hadn’t slept in three days and this used up his last bit of patience.
“Bakugo. Get off him immediately.” He growled.
You knew how this looked. Bakugo was attacking Kirishima after successfully making Kaminari fry his own brain. Your friends’ laughter wasn’t enough to hide Bakugo’s apparent violence even if it was over something as stupid as a kiss. Mr. Aizawa couldn’t possibly know that.
“I overlooked your behavior yesterday, picking a fight with Miss. y/n. But now attacking your other classmates as well? This is violent behavior is unacceptable.”
“Mr. Aizawa—“ Kirishima tried to defend his friend but it was no use.
“Not another word.” Your teacher was glaring at Bakugo with laser beams.
The hot head just stood there in silence with a scowl on his face and two tightly clenched fists. He was really just going to take the heat for everyone? No arguments?
“I’m putting you on house arrest for the rest of the day. No more classes and no combat training.” You watched the dagger go through Bakugo’s chest. Today was going to be offensive training with All Might. You knew he was looking forward to it. Guilt punched your core.
“Mr. Aizawa wait. I’m the one who picked a fight with him yesterday. I challenged him. He shouldn’t get into trouble because of me.” You shuffled toward him timidly. He was scary when he was like this.
Everyone looked at you in surprise. They all knew it was true, that you’d egged him on. And he wouldn’t be raging right now if you hadn’t kissed, so today was also partially your fault. But they were truly surprised because you normally would revel in Bakugo getting scolded. But you weren’t fucking evil. And this wasn’t Bakugo’s fault at all...although he really needed to get his fucking temper in check. Idiot.
“Is that true?” Aizawa asked Bakugo.
The hot head took a deep breath. “Does that sound like me at all? I’d never give into her weak attempts at baiting me. I fought her because I wanted to.”
Your eyes popped out at his words. He lied. Why the fuck would he do that?
Mr. Aizawa escorted Bakugo to the dorms, lecturing the entire way.
“This sucks.” Kirishima said with a frown.
“I know. I feel so bad!” Mina cried sadly.
You had no words. The four of you walked to lunch with drooping heads. You held Kaminari’s hand the whole way until his brain recharged.
Recalling you’d left your backpack in the quad you ran back to get it. Upon arrival you realized Bakugo’s backpack was also there. He wouldn’t even have his stuff with him to finish homework or study during house arrest. You groaned. This guilt was horrible. It ate at you for rest of the day. The rest of your friends didn’t feel any better. And combat training wasn’t the same for you without that familiar sound of explosions going off in the background. It actually made the class feel kind of empty.
As usual at the end of the day you sat in the common area with the rest of the girls.
“So...is it true y/n?” Ochaco poked hesitantly.
You glared at Mina. Loose lips as usual.
“Sorry y/n. I talk when I’m stressed.” Mina cried only kind of regretful.
You sighed. You didn’t have the heart to actually be upset with her. You were the villain here. Getting Bakugo into so much trouble.
“Yea.” You huffed out. Talking about it made you cringe. It was like admitting your sworn rival had defeated you somehow. Even if you sort of didn’t mind the way he did it...
“What was it like?” Mina asked excited for the details.
“Is he a good kisser?” Ochaco added.
Your mind fell into a fog as you replayed the kiss again. Your skin went electric as you remembered the feel of his hands on your waist and those noises he was making. His lips wrapped around yours....
“Oh my god...Ochaco shes in love!” Mina concluded from you zoning out for what ended being like 15 seconds of you staring into space with a little smile on your face. She was practically singing.
“I am not!” You yelled flustered.
“Why are so many people yelling today?” Kirishima chuckled as he rounded the corner to join the couch.
“So is he mad?” Mina’s voice had changed into the sad one from earlier.
“I don’t know. Every time I knock he just tells me to go away. But that’s not that different from normal honestly.” He smiled. Their friendship was so odd.
Suddenly his backpack flashed through your mind. It was sitting in your room.
You got up to leave. You tried to be sneaky about it as they discussed how to cheer the victim up. But to no avail, they’d never let you sneak off again.
“Where you going huh?” Mina’s voice was painfully suggestive.
“To my room!”
“Uh huh, we’ve heard that one before.”
You stuck your tongue at her.
Kirishima twisted to face you over the back of the couch. “So if I ask Bakugo tomorrow if he saw you tonight he’s gonna say no, right?” Who knew he could be this ruthless. No mercy.
You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. You’d been cornered.
“Look. He left his backpack earlier and I’m just going to give it to him! Jeez do you want to do it or something Kiri?” You were seething.
“Nahh, you should do it. He’ll just yell at me to go away again.” He winked. It made you cringe again.
You could peel your skin off from this teasing. But you know someone who hated it even more. You knew that’s why he wouldn’t let Kirishima into his room.
You ran off before they could crack any more jokes.
On your way to the elevators you heard a creepy cackle come from somewhere. You spun around, alarmed, as a “what the fuck” escaped your lips. Your eyes landed on one eyeball peeking through the crack of a doorway.
“Can I get a kiss too?” The voice was wet with drool and lust. “Just one?”
“I will kick your face in Mineta.”
The door quickly shut. Did Mina tell the fucking whole class!?
With more haste now you stormed to your room to get the stupid backpack that was causing you so many problems and made your way to your other problem’s door.
Before you knocked you realized your hands were shaking. Nervous? Seriously, over this moron? You shook it off with resolve and knocked.
“Fuck off Denki, for the hundredth fucking time I’m busy!” A gruff voice yelled from behind the door.
“Oh please, busy with what?” You retorted reflexively. Earlier you had decided you were going to try to be nicer but that sentiment wore off as soon as you heard his annoying voice.
The door swung open.
“What do you want?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
Your mind went blank. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Of course it made his biceps look better than normal. He was wearing a black t-shirt that made his skin look perfectly tanned and was snug in all the right places. And why did he always smell so good damn. Today it was like vanilla and woodsy aftershave.
Stop staring. Stop staring. Speak bitch.
“Here’s your backpack. You should keep better track of it. I had to carry it around all day. That’s annoying.” You tossed it at him.
Why couldn’t you say anything nice? He took the heat for everyone. It’s like your mouth was rebelling against you.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe you should work out more weakling.”
Panic panged in your chest as he started to shut the door in your face.
“Wait—“ you stopped it with your hand.
He paused. Mild interest dawned his brow.
“Why—why did you lie?”
“What?”
“To Mr. Aizawa. You could have told him it was my fault.”
“What do you care?” He pressed. His tone always managed to infuriate you.
You spun on your heels and started to walk away. “Nevermind.”
“Because I felt bad. You hurt your stupid head.”
You’d forgotten about that with all the guilt that had been overrunning your head. It didn’t even hurt anymore. You were surprised he’d even noticed.
“Oh.”
“But obviously you’re fine now so I guess it was all for nothing.” He added quickly trying to sound indignant.
The guilt punched you again. Especially now that you were face to face with him. He didn’t even look mad. He actually looked calm. And he looked good. You tried to deny your attraction to him. But flashes of his hand on your waist started invading your mind again. You could feel him wrapped around your neck. The way he was gentle and rough at the same time.
“Instead of just standing there you could actually make yourself useful. You owe me anyways.”
You snapped out of it trying not to look flustered. You shot him a confused and slightly offended look.
“Fill me in on what I missed in class...” he explained. He wouldn’t make direct eye contact though.
“Are you saying you need my help?” You had to do it. You couldn’t not take an opportunity.
“Tch. Obviously no—“
“Let’s do it. Move.” You said as you pushed past him into his room. Your hand made full contact with his abs and you felt that heat again.
He shut the door behind you and your heart started off like a race horse as you heard him lock it.
You suspected it was to lock the other boys out. God forbid they catch you in his room after all this.
Shit....you were in his room. Alone. With your hot head. The day after he kissed you. The evening after he took all the fury of Mr. Aizawa for you and moments after he asked you to help him study even though he gets way better grades than you.
He cleared a spot for you to sit on his bed and then leaned back into his chair with his hands locked behind his head. His flexing muscles were distracting you again.
“You better actually remember everything.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him.
His words were supposed to rile you but the way he looked at you, like he was secretly loving that you were here was making your stomach flutter. You could feel your face red and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. At this rate you were going to throw yourself at him before he had the chance to kiss you again. As long as you two didn’t start fighting again first.....
~~
💥 YES there will be a pt 3!!! 💥
It’s going to be called “sTuDyiNg” HAHA (hint: Bakugo doesn’t actually wanna study “dumbass”)
Update: Pt.3 is up now!! Read it here
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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years
Text
BTS Reaction | Drunk And Want Sex [Request]
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A/N: Some of these contain Mature descriptions so please if you’re underage please don’t read. But it isn’t rated [M] since it isn’t smut.
Seokjin:
You stumbled through the front door with Jin holding your hand, you began giggling as you fell up the staircase.
"You're so wasted." He grunted when you pushed him down onto the bed straddling him as you began kissing him up and down the neck before reaching his lips and making out with him passionately, well in what you thought was a passionate way you were wasted and could barely walk in a straight line never mind make out properly with your boyfriend who was laughing about the whole attempt you were doing.
"You should get some sleep," Jin said as you continued to kiss own his neck an suck in his sweet spot that made him let out a low groan, you pulled back and giggled at him. The alcohol in your system was turning you into a giggling mess that laughed at almost everything Jin was saying to you.
"I don't want to sleep." You whispered in his ear grinding yourself down onto him and he let out another groan looking at you in the eyes,
"You're drunk Jagi," You'd had sex with Jin before but never drunk he never wanted to do something you would regret in the morning but you continued to grind against him,
"I want you Jin." He smirked kissing you and spinning you around so he was above you on the bed, kissing down your neck as he ground his hips into you.
"Are you sure?" You whimpered and nodded your head desperate for his touch so he began to kiss you once again, his hands travelling up and down your body as yours palmed him through the jeans he was wearing.
"Fuck Jagi." He grunted when you pulled them down and reached for the condoms in the top drawer,
"They're downstairs, wait here." He chuckled pulling his jeans back up and rushing down the stairs of your apartment looking for them. He'd gone to buy a new box that morning so he knew you had some somewhere in the apartment you shared it was just a matter of finding them.
"I got them they were in the top...drawer-" He chuckled to himself when he found you in the bedroom, you were still laid on the bed in your dress from the night but you were fast asleep, letting out small snores as you dreamt away the alcohol you had consumed that night.
"Goodnight Jagi," He chuckled stripping out of his clothes and going to get some makeup wipes to remove your makeup for the night, he didn't want you to wakeup and complain how you'd passed out with it all on.
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Yoongi:
Yoongi chuckled as you began to do a striptease in front of him in the living room, you'd both been drinking heavily that night and it was almost 3 in the morning now.
"Look, it's your favourite." You giggled pointing at the underwear you wore that was his favourite, he growled bringing you to sit down in his lap as you continued to dance for him,
"Shall we move this upstairs?" You giggled as you felt him growing beneath you and he shook his head,
"How about we stay here?" You giggled and began making out once again, your hands tangling into his hair as he bucked up against your throbbing core,
"Yoongi." You whined drunkenly, he laid down and you smirked kissing down his neck and pulling the shirt from over his head so he was just as exposed as you were.
"Fuck I've needed you all week." You moaned out as you pulled down his jeans and boxers looking at him in the eyes before getting off the sofa. As you went to go down onto your knees though you slipped and hit your arm on the end of the coffee table, you let out a cry as soon as it happened and Yoongi sat up pulling his trousers up to see if you were okay,
"Shit baby," He groaned as he noticed how swollen the area was and you'd done it less than a couple of seconds ago.
"It really hurts." You whimpered as he tried to move it and he rushed off to get you some ice for your arm coming back with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel.
"We'll sober up tonight and I'll take you to the hospital in the morning." He said as he applied the ice cold peas to your elbow looking at you as you winced in pain, you laid your head down on his shoulder.
"I'm never trying to have drunk sex again." You moaned out looking at your elbow and back up to Yoongi who was holding back the laughter he had inside,
"We're going to need to come up with a story for the doctor though, you can't tell him you tried to give me a blow job and fell over." He chuckled and you nodded trying to think of something else to tell them,
"I'll say I slipped over when I was drunk, everyone falls when they're drunk."
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Hoseok:
Hoseok had been out all night drinking with the boys to celebrate their newest comeback, it wasn't something that they got to do often so you decided to let them go on there own while you stayed at home in your apartment. But now Hoseok was kissing you and telling you how much he missed you and didn't want to wait any longer, telling you he'd missed you even though he only just left the apartment that morning before work.
"Baby you saw me this morning." You giggled as he continued to kiss down your neck as he brought you up to your bedroom, his hands holding onto your waist. He was wasted and you knew that the moment he showed up at your door slurring and swaying from side to side,
"Fuck, I miss you so much I need you." He groaned as he laid you down on the bed kissing down your neck until he reached your collar bone then he kissed you,
"I need you too Hobi." You whimpered when he bit down on your lip pulling apart and looking at you, he laid down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling his lap making out with him.
"Hobi are you sure you want to though?" He nodded and began pulling your shirt off your body, he brought you down for another kiss and began kissing your neck making you giggle as it tickled you but then all of a sudden he stopped. You sat up straight to see him fast asleep with his arms resting on your waist,
"My sleeping prince." You giggled getting off his lap and going to the end of the bed so you could remove his shoes and jeans so he wouldn't be uncomfortable throughout the night, you laughed to yourself when he rolled over and curled up into your sheets,
"Goodnight baby." You whispered kissing the top of his head and then going to get changed for yourself while he slept in your bed.
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Namjoon:
"Baby! Be careful!" Namjoon called as you rushed up the stairs to your apartment he was following behind you but struggling to keep up since he was carrying your bag, heels and jacket that you'd decided to take off in the taxi much to his dismay since the driver was watching the whole time you were doing it.
"Jagi?" You pulled him into the apartment and into the living room where you proceeded to play loud music through the sound system he had installed, you pushed him onto the sofa and started dancing around the living room.
"The party isn't over!" You cried out between giggles when he grabbed you and pinned you down on the sofa,
"I need you Joonie." You whined out, your mood changing from a partying one to the needy woman you were for your boyfriend, he scoffed at you and sat up shaking his head at you.
"No, I mean it," You whined when he told you that you were too drunk to know what you wanted so you started to prove that you were sober by walking around the glass coffee table you owned.
"Jagi." He warned you as you stumbled a little regaining your balance and steadying your arms out,
"Why don't we go up to bed instead?" You shook your head and told him that you wanted to have sex and you were sure of it so it led to a heated makeout session on the sofa until you ended up falling asleep in the crook of Namjoon's neck, he chuckled picking you up and carrying you up to bed for the night. Changing you into one of his shirts and getting some of the makeup remover he'd seen you use time and time again after long nights out.
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Jimin:
"Stop it Jagi," Jimin growled in your ear as you continued to grind back against him, you were at the dorms having a small party and the alcohol you had been consuming all night was starting to hit you and you wanted Jimin even though there was a dorm full of people.
"You love it," You whispered when you turned around to face him, your arms laced around his neck as you continued to grind together and it was true. Jimin needed you as well but you were both far too drunk to want this properly and you'd had sex plenty of times before but not when everyone was home,
"Please Jimin." You whined in his ear and that was all it took for him to take you out of the living room and over to his dorm room. He shut and locked the door behind him turning around to make out with you and lead you over to the bed pinning you down below him.
"You look so good tonight Jagi, did you wear this just for me?" He asked as he unzipped the dress and pulled it off your body, you giggled in response to him and he began kissing down your body, coming to your panties and expecting you to start begging but he heard you snoring instead,
"And you're gone." He chuckled taking off his T-shirt and putting it over your body instead, he pulled the covers out from underneath you and covered you with them kissing you on your forehead before crawling in next to you and getting ready to fall asleep beside you.
"Jimin." You whined in your sleep turning over to lay your head on his chest, he smiled and held you as close as he could get you before closing his eyes.
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Taehyung:
Taehyung was kissing you the whole drive home, kissing your hand when you weren't using it to change gears and leaning across to suck on your neck whenever you pulled up at a red light and he had the chance to kiss you,
"Fuck Tae I didn't know you were so needy when you were drunk." You giggled as he pulled you up to his room in the dorms, you giggled as he began kissing and sucking on your neck once again surely leaving marks for everyone to see in the morning.
"I need you." He growled in your ear grinding his member into you as he carried you over to the bed laying you down and making out with you,
"I need you too baby." You whined out to him as he continued to kiss you, you whimpered as his hands travelled down to your already needy core rubbing through the jeans you were wearing and he smirked hearing you moan out his name.
"B-Baby wait," You whispered pulling away and pinning him down below you this time,
"I need condoms first." You told him and he groaned telling you they were in the bathroom, you ran to the en-suite hunting for them when you heard a loud bang come from the bedroom when you came back in Taehyung was on the floor holding his head in pain.
"What happened?" You giggled as he rubbed his head,
"I fell off the bed." You laughed at him and helped him stand up, sitting him down on the bed while you went to get him some medication instead of condoms,
"You could have a concussion." You groaned as he insisted on going to sleep, you watched him for most of the night finally going to sleep around 4 in the morning when you decided he would fine.
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Jungkook:
"Please." You whined to your best friend as you left the club with him to go home, he was insisting that you go home and stay with him since you were too drunk to be trusted to go home alone.
"No, we did it once and once is it." He told you as you straddled his lap in the back of a taxi kissing his neck as he said no to you, you both had a major crush on one another and had slept together before but it never developed into anything because you were both too awkward about it without alcohol in your system.
"I need you Jungkook, I love you." You whispered to him meaning every word you were saying to him, you'd loved him since you were kids and once he looked into your eyes to see you were serious he kissed you roughly, holding you close to him until the cab pulled up outside the dorms and you rushed up to the door leaving him to pay for the cab.
"Come on Kookie." You giggled pulling him through the door and towards the staircase, you knew your way around the dorms like your own apartment since you spent a lot of your time there so you were walking backwards holding eye contact with Jungkook when you slipped, falling down the stairs and making Jungkook laugh until he realised you were crying in pain.
"What happened?!" Namjoon yelled when he came into the hallway to find you crying out as you ankle was already bruising,
"Jungkook get a cab or wake up Jin-Hyung." Namjoon yelled going on the hunt for an ice pack since it looked like you'd broken your ankle, you groaned out as Jungkook came back over to you.
"I still mean it." You reminded him, looking up at him and telling him you loved him again while you waited for Jin to get changed and take you to the hospital.
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Tagline: 
@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @fan-ati--c​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @rjsmochii​
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cloudygeorge · 4 years
Text
no more secrets
pairing: mob!tom holland x reader
summary: you’re naturally clumsy, so that’s where the bruises are from, right?
warnings: harsh language, bullying but make it a mafia henchmen
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You were naturally clumsy, so it was natural for you come home with seemingly random bruises almost everyday. At first, your boyfriend, Tom, was worried whenever he saw a new one, but eventually he got used to it. It sort of became a thing. He’d chuckle as he handed you an ice pack for a particularly nasty spot, and you’d stick your tongue out at him, and the two of you would go back to whatever it was you were doing.
Because of that, it made sense that he didn’t notice at first; bruises were nothing new. You weren’t really planning on telling him, either. When he got home one night, he saw you laying on the couch, eyes closed, with a bag of frozen peas on one eye. You had changed into yoga pants and a hoodie. Some comedy that you couldn’t remember the name of was playing on the TV in front of you. He frowned as he walked over. “Don’t tell me you walked into a locker again, babe.”
You groaned. “Maybe, if people knew how to close their lockers instead of leaving them wide open all the time-”
Your boyfriend cut off your rant with a chuckle as he pressed his lips to yours. “So, what are we watching?”
And so it went on, because there was no way you were actually going tell Tom where you got that black eye from. Or the bruise on your wrist. Or the bruise you would sure surely have on your hip by tonight.
You groaned at the feeling of being slammed against the wall by one of Tom’s men. It was the same one that stopped you everyday on your walk home from your job at the little diner downtown. He snarled at you, a wicked smirk taking place on his lips. “You know he doesn’t really love you. You’re just another past time to him.” The man, Dylan, you thought his name was, placed a hand loosely around your throat, slowly applying pressure. “You mean nothing, not to him, me, or anyone else. You are nothing,” an idea seemed to come to him as he let you go completely, leaving you gasping for air. He tauntingly winked at you. “Same time tomorrow?”
It went on for weeks. You tried to not let it happen, but you couldn’t tell Tom, he was already so stressed with everything he was having to do with his “business,” you couldn’t pile this on him. Besides, it’s not like everything Dylan said was wrong, right? At least, that was how you felt. Maybe that was another reason why you didn’t tell Tom, you thought, as Dylan held you by your hair, making you tear up as he used the grip to shove you to your knees on the pavement. You felt the skin of your knees tear, your uniform not covering them.
Tears streamed heavily down your cheeks as he knelt in front of you. “This is your place in the world. It was my job to show it to you,” He stood up and held out a foot. “Kiss it,” he smirked, slapping you across the face. You felt his ring cut you, but as you stared at his shoe, knowing the grime and filth he must have walked in, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
He leaned in. “Kiss it, or I-”
“Or you’ll what?” An ice cold voice cut him off, the cocking of a gun quickly following. You starting crying in relief as Tom stepped out of the shadows casually, gun in hand. His eyes were cold and dark.
“Boss! I-I, uh-”
Tom chuckled darkly. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Tell me, what were you going to do? Actually, better yet, what am I going to do to you?” Tom asked pointing the gun at Dylan. You took that as your cue to move. You tried hiding behind Tom, but he pulled you into him, using the hand that wasn’t holding the gun to hide your tear-stained face in his neck.
You flinched as you heard the gunshot. You stood shaking in Tom’s arms, who didn’t say anything he walked with you back to his car. He didn’t say anything on the car ride home either. He didn’t speak until you tried to walk to the bedroom when you got home.
“Oh no,” he grabbed your hand gently, pulling you closer to him as he grabbed your chin. There was nothing but love and worry in his eyes as he spoke. “I need to know what happened. How long has this been going on?”
That was when you broke down crying. You told him everything, and Tom held you tight with fists clenched. It pained him to know that all the bruises, all the marks that he chalked up to nothing meant so much more and it was all in plain sight.
“How many bruises were from him?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess, a lot. I just didn’t want to tell you because you’re always so stressed. I didn’t really wanna bother you about it.”
Tom cupped your face. “No more secrets. Okay, this is stuff i need to know about. This isn’t bother me, this is making sure you are taken care of. This should never ever happen. No more secrets.”
You offered a little smile. “No more secrets.”
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etoileholland · 4 years
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don’t leave me waiting here
Anonymous asked: The reader is trying to comfort peter after he failed a mission. peter’s injuries and headache cause him to lash out at the reader. 🥺
Pairing: Peter Parker and reader
Warnings: angst but fluff at the end, mentions of injuries but no details of how it looks I promise
Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, but some of the ‘medical statements’ I wrote in here are just what I’ve learned from personal experience from growing up in hospital/doctors settings. 
Word count: 3.9k (wow look who finally got inspired to actually write something longer than 2k)
A/N: I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted but my life has been pretty hectic recently, and as a result I lost motivation to write. Requests are open so please send something in! (Preferably for Peter Parker right now because I feel like I have a lot of motivation to write for him. If you’ve sent in a Tom request I’ll probably get around to it, but idk when so sorry in advance) 
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Peter had trudged back home, but stopped in his tracks right as he made his way to his apartment door. He knew that if he went home looking tattered and as disheveled as he did, May would be concerned, and when she’s concerned it makes him concerned. He didn’t want to talk about how he had his ass beat by a few bad guys, and because of this, Tony put him on probation until “he can get his shit together and prove himself to be worthy.” His words, not mine. 
Knowing full well that he didn’t want to talk about it, he turned on his heels to make his way to your residence. You lived only a few blocks away from him, and it seemed that he was at your place more than his own. Walking slowly, it took him longer than usual to reach your apartment complex, but the solemn walk was almost comforting.
Shoulders slumped, he rang the bell to your apartment and waited for you to buzz him into the door. He waited a few seconds before impatiently ringing the bell again and again until you finally answered after the sixth time.
“Damn, who is it? What in the world do you want?” You were clearly annoyed, and the person on the other end of the intercom remained silent. 
Peter didn’t realise that it hurt him to speak, but it would make sense due to the fact that one of the bad guys punched him square in the throat. He opened his mouth but nothing but a squeak came out. 
“If this is a sick joke, or a prank, I suggest you leave immediately before I call the cops.”
“It’s not,” he whispered up to the speaker, “a joke.” He took a sharp inhale in before saying, “‘S Peter.”
“Peter?” You asked, “Why are you whispering?”
He didn’t have the strength to reply, that alone hurt too much to say. 
When he didn’t respond, you ran over to the living room window that overlooked the city street, one that also overlooked the front gate. You could recognise Peter anywhere, but his demeanour seemed, well, different. You skipped back over to the speaker and pushed the button for him to be able to enter the building. Usually he ran up the stairs and would be at your door in an instant, but today it took him about three minutes to trudge up the stairs while he practically dragged himself to your door.
You opened the door before he could knock, gasping at the sight of him. He had a black eye, a few cuts on his face, and his clothes looked as though they were put through a shredder; cuts and scrapes visible underneath the tattered clothes. He didn’t even tilt his head up to meet your gaze, all he did was take a step forward into your outstretched arms. You led him into your apartment and locked the door.
“Pete?” You whispered, “are you okay?” 
He shook his head no and let out a small sob. “Do I look okay?” He quietly asked.
“No, come here angel.” You held onto him tighter and put your hand on the back of his neck and stroked the little curls on the nape of his neck. He sobbed again and held you tighter, not wanting to let go. 
“Would you wanna talk about it?” You asked but he shook his head no again. 
“It hurts to talk, was punched in throat. And head.” He whispered back and let go from your embrace. He walked over to your couch to lay down on it, already knowing what was going to come next. You went into the bathroom and grabbed some gauze, medical tape, hydrogen peroxide and some Neosporin. Supplies in hand, you walked back over to Peter who had his eyes closed with his head tilted slightly back. 
“Is your throat okay?” You set the supplies down on the coffee table and shook your head. “What kind of question is that, of course it’s not okay. I should take you to the hospital asap.” 
“Don’t.” He croaked out, “Don’t you dare.” 
“Fine.” You didn’t want to start an argument, but if you saw anything more unusual than the usual bruises and cuts, then a trip to the ER would be necessary. First, you assessed to see if his pupils dilated under a flashlight, which would indicate a sign of a concussion, but surprisingly it seemed he didn’t have one. 
“My head hurts.” He added, his voice sounding more normal than before.
“Where, specifically?” 
With a wince and a groan, he lifted his arm to point to where there was a large bump on his forehead. When it comes to head injuries, like a bump on the head, it’s better to see the damage externally, which usually signified that the head was alright internally. 
“Let me get you some ice.” You got up and swiftly walked over to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen peas. A few seconds later you were back by Peter’s side, holding the bag of ice to his head.
About twenty minutes and a lot of gauze later, Peter was finally patched up like new. His voice came back and although he said it still hurt, at least he was able to talk again. 
“Now would you want to tell me what happened? Also from the looks of it, it doesn’t seem like you were wearing your suit, why not?” 
“I said I don’t want to talk about it, Y/N. Now drop it.”
“Peter, if you didn’t want me to know about it then you would’ve just gone back home and-”
“I only came because I knew you would be the only one who would fix me up, okay? I didn’t come to be interrogated, and I sure as hell didn’t come here to feel ridiculed, do you understand?” He seethed, eyes glaring at you. 
“Well maybe if you would at least tell me what happened I-”
“I don’t want to talk! I don’t care what happened, and now I’m regretting showing up here.” Peter attempted to sit up but groaned and fell back onto the couch in his original position. “I wish I hadn’t come round.”
You let his words hang in the air for a minute until you decided to speak. “I didn’t know you only saw me as a medic, and not your friend. At least I now know how you really see me.” You exhaled audibly and stood up. “And when you’re able, please leave and never come back.” You left Peter alone and walked into your bedroom door, slamming it shut.
He covered his eyes with his hands, wincing at the pain and letting out a sigh. He didn’t see you only as his medic, or even just his best friend. No, he saw you more than that. He was in love with you, which was why he always would come around to be fixed when he needed it. He loved how you treated him with care and made him feel safe when all he felt was scared and afraid. You always took away the pain, and he loved how close you would be to him, how your touch always felt so nice and loving. 
When you said that you wanted him to leave and never come back, he knew that you had finally washed your hands of the situation. You were never one to walk away from people, but once you finally had enough, there was almost no convincing you otherwise. He was hit with the revelation that maybe, just maybe, you’ll really never wanna see him again. A thought so depressing that all he could do was cry. 
He felt the tears stream down his cheeks and felt them roll off his face and onto the pillow that his head was resting on. He gasped for air but winced when it felt like he couldn’t breathe, probably due to him being kicked in the side. More tears rolled down his cheeks until he felt like he may just drown in them. He eventually cried himself to sleep, hoping that sleeping would somehow make the situation better.
Peter awoke a few hours later, a conclusion he came to because when he fell asleep, it was dusk, and now the curtains were drawn in the living room and a lamp in the far corner illuminated the room. He carefully sat up and noticed that his head seemed to feel a bit better, even though he didn’t remember you giving him any medicine for it. He stood up and steadied himself against the edge of the couch while slowly walked towards the bathroom. Your room was a door down from the bathroom, and he saw that it was still closed. He couldn’t hear any little sounds coming from your room indicating you were inside, and he wondered if you decided to go as far as leave him by himself in your apartment. Your parents were away for the weekend anyway, so it wouldn’t really matter if you were gone too for the night until he went home.
After freshening up in the bathroom, he decided to knock on your door and see if you were even home. There was no reply from the other side of the door, but Peter decided to see if the door was unlocked. Surprisingly it was, to which he quietly opened the door and stepped into your room. You were laying in your bed with your laptop on your lap, earbuds placed in your ears. When your gaze met his, you averted your gaze back to your laptop.
“Y/N, can we please talk?” He asked, voice hushed as if to not anger you further. He awaited your response, but you ignored his question. “Please?”
“Oh, so now you want to talk.” You remarked and slammed your laptop shut. “That’s funny, when I wanted to talk to you, you shut me down and ridiculed me and made me feel inferior, but now that you want to talk, I’m just supposed to be okay with that.” You huffed out an angry laugh.  
“I-”
“Listen to what I’m going to say, hmm? I don’t care about what happened to you earlier today, and I won’t care about what happens after this. I just need you to leave me alone and I meant it when I said it.” You got up and took a step closer to Peter. “Now you know what it feels like when you want to speak to someone but they just keep shutting you down.” 
Peter stood there speechless for this was a side of you that he had never seen before. One that was cold, vindictive.
“Aren’t you going to leave?” You questioned, but Peter felt like he was frozen. “Well, aren’t you?” Your voice quivered, and a tear escaped your eye. He physically couldn’t move, and when he tried to open his mouth, no words came out. He was in shock, all he could do was stand there while watching the situation unfold.
Defeated, you took a step back and crawled back into your bed. Opening your laptop, you placed your earbuds back in, ignoring Peter as if he didn’t exist. 
Peter took a step back until he was standing in the hallway. He wiped away a tear that he didn’t know had escaped his eye, and walked out of your apartment. 
A week had passed since the incident with Peter, and he was nowhere to be found. Rumours circulated that he moved schools, or that he dropped out of school entirely. The curiosity coursed through your veins, and you had to know if he was okay. You shuddered at the words that replayed in your head, when you told Peter that you no longer cared about him. It was definitely untrue, and the worry was consuming you whole. 
At lunch, you saw MJ and Ned sitting together. They both looked exhausted and the looks on their faces proved that the worry was eating them alive too. Peter never missed school--he’s had perfect attendance since kindergarten, so for him to miss a whole week was a big deal.
Hesitantly, you placed your hands in your, well, Peter’s sweatshirt pocket and walked over to where MJ and Ned were sitting. They shot you a disapproving gaze, which made you wonder if Peter told them what happened between you two. 
“Hey,” You said while looking at them both. MJ downright ignored you, but at least Ned acknowledged your presence. 
“Hey.” He replied curtly.
MJ looked past you, and so to not waste anyone’s time, you decided to get to the point.
“So, um, is Peter alright? I noticed that he wasn’t in school and-”
“So you care now?” MJ asked, voice laced with a bit of hostility and sadness.
“I’ve always cared, I-”
“Well that’s not what Peter said.” Ned chimed in. “We went round his place yesterday, and I don’t know what you said to him but he’s beyond devastated. He knows he screwed up with you, and he’s sorry about that.”
“There’s probably a lot you don’t know, and-”
“That’s for sure.” MJ stated.
“God, will one of you at least let me finish a sentence? I swear, you and Peter both won’t let me get a word in.”
“Fine.” Ned replied.
“Good. I was going to say that there’s a lot to this situation, and without going into too many details, he said he only sees me as a medic and not even a friend.”
“Oh.” They said in unison.
“Yeah. So I think I had every reason to get mad at him when he didn’t tell me what was going on.”
“I think so.” Ned responded, and MJ looked at you sympathetically. 
“You know, there’s also a lot you don’t know either Y/N.” MJ hinted and when she saw the confused look on your face, she continued. “Peter hasn’t always been honest with you, which is why he’s beating himself up now and staying home from school. He can’t stand to see you hate him, which is why he isn’t here.” She stood up from her seat and Ned followed suit. “Now if you'll excuse us, we have an acadeca practice to go to.”
And with that, they left you standing in the middle of the cafeteria absolutely dumbfounded.
Another painstakingly slow week had passed and you were studying in your room, preparing for midterms. You could hardly focus in school anymore, and as a result your grades had been slipping. Luckily your parents were gone again at another business conference, and they wouldn’t be home for a few weeks, which gave you plenty of time to sort your grades out before they came home. 
You were so concentrated on studying US history that you nearly failed to hear the ring from the intercom. It took about six rings until it had registered that someone was at the front door, so you scrambled to answer it.
“I’m sorry, I was busy and I didn’t hear the bell ring. May I ask who’s there?” You asked in your ‘receptionist’ voice, hoping that whoever rang was still there. You were met with silence so you looked out the living room window to see if the person was still down there. 
You looked down and saw a man standing there, head tilted down looking at the pavement, holding a bouquet of flowers in his left hand. You didn’t recognize who he was but you didn’t get the feeling that he was dangerous, so you opened the window and called out to him. 
“Did you need something sir?” You inquired and nearly fell out the window when you saw that it was Peter looking up at you. He looked so different than what you were used to; his hair was long and he wore baggy sweats and a black hoodie. 
“Y/N, please just give me a minute to explain and I promise I’ll leave you alone after this.” He hollered to you, to which you closed your window and locked it. 
Peter sighed and was about to head home when he heard that the front gate was unlocked. He ran to open the door and sprinted up the stairs to your apartment. 
He was about to knock on the door when you opened it before he could knock. “You have precisely one minute.” You held open the door for him to come inside. 
Peter cleared his throat and said, “these are for you. I remembered that you once mentioned that the prettiest flowers you had ever seen in New York were from a corner florist in Manhattan, so I went there and got you these myself.” He held them out to you, which you graciously took from him. They really were the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen, and the nice gesture made what little anger you had left towards him dissipate completely. 
“Can I sit down?” He motioned to the couch, to which you nodded your head yes. You sat in the armchair across from the couch and Peter took a second to compose himself. He had a whole speech planned out on what he would say, but once he saw you he forgot everything. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I know it won’t cut it now and I had a whole speech memorised but now I’m flustered and I can’t remember it. I didn’t mean anything that I said that day. You mean so much to me and I was just in a bad mood because I found out that Mr. Stark was fighting some bad guys and I was in the area so I went to help him. I didn’t have my suit but I figured I’d be okay, but I had my ass beat by them and Mr. Stark saved me from them, but he was also injured in the process. He’s fine, by the way, but it would’ve been better if I didn’t intervene. The bad guys got away and he was so mad at me that he put me on probation until I can get my act together.” 
He caught his breath and looked at you to make sure you were still listening. You signaled for him to continue so he did. “He told me I was reckless and that I should’ve minded my own business. So I came to you all broken and injured, not because I see you as a medic, but because you make me feel better. I love that you can fix me up and make me feel safe and loved, and I’m sorry I said I only see you as someone who can repair me, because that’s not true.” 
“Is that all?” You asked, but Peter shook his head no. 
“There’s more. Ned and MJ told me that you spoke to them at lunch one day, and they said you were concerned. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was okay, I just figured that what you said was true, that you really don’t care about me anymore. That day when we fought and you told me you never wanted to see me again, it broke my heart because I’ve never seen you that cold and calculating before. So I know that I messed up royally, which is why I avoided you and ultimately ditched school for a week. I didn’t want to see you that way and so I did what I thought was best, which was to leave you alone. But they said I should come talk to you since you didn’t seem mad anymore, so here I am. I wish I could go back in time to that day and tell you that you mean so much to me, and I’m sorry I made you feel inferior. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just thought you should know all of that.”
He stood up from the couch, pausing before saying, “I promised that if you listened to me, I would leave you alone. So thank you for your time, and I’ll get going now.” He tried to walk past you but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. 
“I need to say something too Peter. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to tell me what happened. It wasn’t right of me to pry and I’m also sorry that I said I didn’t care about you, because that’s so far from the truth. I care about you so much and it’s always so hard to see you hurt. This time the wounds seemed worse than usual, which would make sense because you didn’t have your suit to protect you. I was just really worried about you, that’s all.” You admitted.
“You don’t have to be sorry, it really was all my fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you because I know you care about me, but I promise that if anything happens next time I’ll tell you and be honest and upfront.” 
“Well, I hope you won’t get injured again.” You placed your hand on his chest and he put his hand on top of yours. 
“Sadly I will, it’s a part of the job. But I promise I’ll try to be safer.”
“Good, because I don’t want to lose you.” You pulled your hand away but Peter held onto it. 
“I don’t want to lose you either.” Peter now let go of your hand, as he took a step towards your door. 
“Wait Peter, can I ask you something? 
“Of course.” 
“MJ said that you haven’t always been completely honest with me, what did she mean by that?” 
Peter’s face turned red, his cheeks burning up.“Oh, well, I guess now’s a good time to say it, I suppose. I don’t see you only as a f-friend.” He stammered. 
“How do you see me then, Peter?” You asked, and his face became redder. 
“More than a friend, Y/N. I’m in love with you, which is why I always come around because you make me feel safe and loved.”
“You’re in love with me?”
“I always have been, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything soon-.” 
You cut him off by crashing your lips on his, and at first he was stunned, but he eventually kissed you back and deepened it. His lips glided against yours and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, reaching for and running your fingers through the curls on the back of his head. A minute later, you pulled away, but not before Peter lightly placed another kiss on your lips. “I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“‘S okay, Pete. I love you too.”  You kissed his cheek and rested your forehead against his. 
“Do you forgive me for lashing out?” He inquired, and in confirmation you kissed his lips lightly. 
“Yes, I know you didn’t really mean it.”
“I didn’t.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I missed you.”
You gently squeezed his hand and held it up to your lips, giving his hand a light kiss. “I missed you too Peter.” You tried your pull away but he pulled you closer to him. “Hey, while you’re here, would you wanna watch a movie or something?”
He didn’t answer your question but instead picked you up and began walking towards your bedroom. He wrapped his arm around your waist and peppered kisses on your cheek, causing you to giggle. “I can think of something else I’d rather do.” He grinned before kissing your lips and closing your bedroom door. 
Additional note: can you tell I love using Beatles lyrics as titles? They’re just so good. If you have any requests for Peter please send them my way. Anyway please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist :)
mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow​ @sunflowerhollands​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @taciturnspidey​ @musicalkeys​ @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @quaksonhehe​ @halfblood-princess-505-deactiva​
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Putting It Back Together Chapter 2
Chapter 1
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Adam/OFC
Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story, blood, slow burn
Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?
@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1​ @poetic-fiasco​ @shiningloki​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @bookworm-christina​ @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy​ @amwolowicz​ @delightfulheartdream​ @frostbitten-written​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @tom-hlover​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @myraiswack​
If you would like on or off the tag list, please let me know!
Hunched over his desk, Adam scowled at the blank staff on the music composition page before him. In his mind he could hear the notes that he had composed two nights ago but when he tried to concentrate and write them down they refused to stay clear in his brain. Twice already he had crumpled up the dried out old paper and hurled it across the room. Now, after his pen scratched through another mistake, he swept the entire pile of paper off the desk.
Leaning back in his wingchair, he glared across the room. It was all the fault of that thing. There against the wall, clashing with his dark hued room, sat a garishly bright neon yellow tool bag. It was not just that it was an eye sore, though that was bad enough. Really, who in their right mind would purchase anything so hideous? It was the knowledge that it belonged to her. That horrid, sobbing girl who had cried all over him last night.
Adam suppressed a shiver as he remembered it. She had clung to him like a python, face buried in his chest has he flailed to find a way to calm her. He had been so startled by the way she melted into him he had not known what to do. He was no longer, he realized, used to experiencing any form of physical contact.
She was tiny. That had been his first, irrelevant observation. Her watery face had only come up to the middle of his chest. She was also surprisingly warm. Holding her felt so different, so very different than holding Eve had felt. His late wife had been nearly as tall as he was, and like him she lacked the blood pumping through her veins to warm her in the night air.
Blood. That was the next, unshakable realization. She was full of throbbing, pulsing blood. Adam could sense it coursing through her, adding a flush to her face and a beat to the chest pressed against his stomach. With her hair piled as it was on top of her head he could see clearly the blue tinted vein running down her long neck. Staring at it, he felt his animal side begin to stir within him.
It had been ten years since Adam had eaten from a living person. On that desperate night in Tangier it had been a matter of life or death, him or the young woman unfortunate enough to cross his path when he was literally starving. He had turned the girl, and Eve had done the same to her lover. They had given them immortality, curse or gift depending on your mindset. In the end, it hadn't mattered. Both of them had died along with Eve when tainted blood had been sold to them. Adam would have been dead too, had he not been out scouring a rare bookshop for a gift for his beloved.
Years later, the proximity of a carotid artery, just there for the taking, caused a physical sensations within him. Adam could feel his fangs fighting to descend. Alarmingly, he could also feel his cock hardening in his jeans. Live feeding was not the only thing he had gone without for years. The small woman in his arms, so helpless and so unaware of her peril, was all but begging to be devoured in all sorts of ways. He could imagine tearing away her clothes and sinking into her, first his cock then his fangs, as he satisfied his cravings upon her unsuspecting body. Had Adam been other than what he was, had he not had all of those centuries with Eve to civilize him, she would have been done for.
Instead, he had clumsily patted her on the back, eyes rolling in his head as he did so. He could not quite bring himself to mouth the platitudes he knew she would expect of him, but he did his best to bite back the sarcasm that was his defensive habit. She had lost someone herself, and while the pain of losing someone known only for one short lifetime could never compare to the loss he had suffered, it still touched a chord within him. He knew the deep, unending pain of love taken too soon.
When at last she had managed to breath regularly again, Adam had quickly walked her back to the hatch that led to her own home. She had uttered a ceaseless string of apologies that he neither wanted nor needed, and he had mumbled something inane in return, sounding for all the world like just another zombie. The relief he felt when he shut the hatch behind her had almost brought him to his knees. And yet...
She had been so very warm. So warm and so alive. Irritating and encroaching, yes, but her questions about his electric system had been intelligent, and her observations startlingly apt. He was used to zombies being disinterested, focused so inward on their own petty problems that they didn't see what was right in front of their faces.
Her face had been pretty, the thought ran through his head. A little older than he had expected at first, though they all seemed young to him. Big eyes, full lips, high, almost elfin cheekbones.
With a growl, Adam stood up and stalked over to the offensive yellow tool bag. He should have left it up on the roof. She would have realized it was missing eventually and gone back up for it. But the skies had looked threatening, and he didn't want her tools to rust. It was a matter of conservation, he assured himself. Not wanting to do something nice for a zombie. Certainly not that.
He obviously was not going to be able to concentrate with the hideous thing in his home. He would take it back over to her. The home she lived in had a double style doorway; if he was lucky the outer door would be open and he could leave it between them. No need to see her again. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into another encounter with her.
Pulling his leather jacket on without bothering with a shirt, Adam grabbed the tool bag and headed for his front door. Best to get this over with. Yanking open the door in his rush, he collided with something soft and with a shock watched the very person he had been hoping to avoid fall backwards off of his front stoop.
"Fuck!" she yelped, as she toppled down.
Adam blinked as she looked up at him from the ground where she sat inelegantly on her ass.
"Are you alright?" he asked as sense returned to him.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she smiled unconvincingly at him. "Luckily I don't have too far to fall."
"I was going out and didn't expect you to be there," he mumbled.
He heard the accusation in his voice, but didn't seem to be able to help it. What the hell had she been doing there?
"Of course not," she blushed. "Um... would you mind?"
She held out her hand and Adam gasped. Her palm was scratched from breaking her fall, and a small pattern of blood was beading up on the skin. Instinctively he took a step back at the same time his head moved forward with a will of its own. The woman looked at him with confusion, and he forced himself calm down. Why the fuck hadn't he put on gloves?
Working hard to control the trembling of his hands, he reached out and helped her to stand. Hyper aware of the siren call of her blood he pulled his hands back as fast as he possibly could, hoping she didn't notice the way they trembled. Fortunately for him she seemed too concentrated on her own discomfort.
"Did you want something?" he asked brusquely when she had gotten her balance back.
"Not really. Well, I mean, yes. To... to apologize. For last night. For crying all over you. Sorry."
"No need," he told her "Forget about it. I have."
"Oh. Well, okay then," she stood for a moment worrying at her lower lip, and he noticed again how full her mouth was. "Were you going somewhere?"
"Out," he said tersely, old habits dying hard. As he saw her flinch, he made his tone soften. "Actually, I was going to see you."
"Really?" he eyes lit up, and Adam felt a panic that he could not place.
"Yes. You left this on the roof last night. I thought you might want it back."
"Oh," she said again, face falling once more. "Thanks."
"Think nothing of it," he said, grimacing. Why was she just standing there? "Well, see you."
"Yeah," she blinked up at him.
"Alright then."
Honestly, wasn't she ever going to move? Giving up, Adam gave her the closest he could muster to a half smile and turned back inside, shutting the door behind him in her face.
Only when the wood was solid between them did he shakily raise his hand in front of his face. There, crimson in the dim light of his apartment, was a smear of her blood. Unable to control himself any longer, he brought his hand to his mouth and desperately sucked the sticky liquid off, moaning with the taste of it. So fresh, so pure, so sweet.
Falling back on the sofa conveniently behind him, he realized he was hard again. Licking to make sure he had gotten every last drop, he stroked himself with his other hand. If he was picturing a certain set of wide eyes and lush lips, it was only because their owner's blood was still hot in his mouth. There could not possibly be any other reason.
***
Well, that had been an unmitigated disaster.
Lilly held the bag of frozen peas to her ass and tried not to dwell on how thoroughly she had humiliated herself. If that was an example of her improving her image she obviously needed to never leave the house again. She was not fit to be around other people. Certainly not fit to be around someone so flawless as her neighbor.
Good lord, when he had walked out the door and into her, it was like being hit with a load of bricks. Lying there on her backside staring up at him, Lilly had been almost stuck dumb by the sight. She had thought he was beautiful from a distance, or in the dark light of the roof. Standing as he was in a halo of porch light he was almost god-like. It did not help that his black leather jacket was parted to reveal a very well muscled chest and abdomen. Lilly's eyes traveled the length of him from the bob of his adam's apple, over his defined pecs and six pack, and down to the thin trail of hair and the vee that drew her eyes past the edge of his low slung jeans.
Sweet bajeebas, but he was perfect. She was hardly the same species. What had she been thinking?
The playing began sometime later that night, around midnight. Lilly was hunched of a jigsaw puzzle she had found in a cupboard. Her Grandmother had loved to do them, and Lilly had caught the bug. She had lost count of the number of nights she had stayed up obsessively putting them together, unable to go to bed until she had found just one more piece, only to see the sun rise as she finished it.
The wail of a guitar came through the wall, sounding plaintive and introspective. Lilly had been drawn to all of the music she had heard from him so far. His melodies were complex, and he seemed to favor minor keys. Her Grandmother would have liked it as well. No doubt she had enjoyed hearing the strains come through the thin walls. Certainly she would have preferred it to the fighting and drunken antics of the students that had always assailed them before.
Lilly found herself humming along to his playing. She loved music, even if she was self-conscious of her voice. Having a Grandmother who had made a career of crooning songs in smoky clubs made her all too aware of her own deficiency.
There was something so comforting about music. It was almost mathematical in the way it worked. Patterns created and repeated, only to be subverted and return in a new and unexpected ways. If the composer was good, that was. Her neighbor was very good.
Of course he would be good. God forbid he be less than perfect at anything.
So when he kept reaching the end of a delicate passage, only to end on a note that didn't quite resolve the phrase. Lilly could hear the frustration in his fingers clearly through the layers of sheet rock that separated them. At first it amused her; so he was fallible after all. Good. She allowed herself to take a superior pleasure in his failure.
By the time it was approaching two in the morning, she was ready to scream. She was over halfway done with her puzzle - a scene of Paris at night, all lit up - but was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate. Her gorgeous, grouchy neighbor must have played through the piece a hundred times, and every time it ended wrong. It was driving her insane. He was so close to finishing it. Every time he hit the not quite right note she felt her entire body twitch. She could only imagine how he was feeling.
It started one more time. Lilly held her breath, willing him to find what was right there, waiting to be put in place. The final phrase started, she scrunched her face, waiting to hear it fixed. The note he played was achingly close, but not quite what the song cried out for.
"Half a step lower!" she screamed out, unable to resist any longer.
The music stopped. Everything went silent on the other side of the wall. Now she had done it. Lilly could see him, glaring at the wall with that intense, closed off set of blue eyes. She was inordinately happy now that a solid hunk of material kept them apart. Any hope of a friendship developing between her and her haughty crush had surely been dashed now. And all because she could not control her stupid impulses.
After a stretch that seemed like forever, a length of time where Lilly died and was forced back into existence repeatedly, the music started up again. She made herself a small lump in the corner of her sofa, as if somehow she could hide even though it was impossible for him to see her. If she could have fit below the cushions she would have.
He reached to end and after the slightest of pauses he played the note she had suggested. It sounded perfect. The chord rang out, slowly fading, and she felt a small smile fighting to exist on her lips.
The music stopped abruptly again, and for the rest of the night only silence greeted her through the wall between them.
52 notes · View notes
trillian-anders · 4 years
Text
marital bliss
pairing: steve rogers x reader
warnings: angst, fluff, miscarriage, depression
word count: 2.2k
description: 1950s au; steve knew he was going to marry you the moment he laid eyes on you, but you struggle with something your parents deem not fit for marriage. and everything that comes with that. 
note: for @jbbarnesnnoble‘s mental health awareness month challenge. 
prompt:  It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be.
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Steve had loved you since the moment he saw you. And he can remember exactly when it was. You’d been at the drive-in. Three cars down with the guy you’d been going steady with for a while. You’d been wearing a powder blue dress and a matching headband in your hair. The dress had daisies stitched into it on the hem. You snacked on junior mints and scolded the guy for touching your hair with his buttery fingers.
You sat against the trunk of your boyfriend’s car on intermission. That’s when Steve first saw you. Shaking the box to unstick the candies while he walked past, bumping into the shoulder of one of the boys joking with your boyfriend, only because he wasn’t paying attention. Only because he was trying to count the lashes that were fanned on your cheeks.
“Watch where you’re going punk.” A shove and he was on the ground. His mom had just about killed him for getting grass stains on his khakis. His popcorn spilled all over the ground. His eyes met yours, connecting for the very first time and it just about took his breath away. He maybe looked a little too long,
“You lookin’ at my girl?” A fist in his shirt collar, yanking his small frame from the ground.
“Michael!” Your voice had been like a melody to his ears, your hands wrapping around ‘Michael’s bicep, his hand curled in a fist, “Leave the kid alone.” It hurt a little, but he was sure you thought by his height and lankiness that he was a kid. But he was sure he was the same age as you, or at least around the same age.
Steve watched in horror as Michael lay his palm flat over your face and push you backward, your back hitting the trunk of the car and without realizing he was even doing it, swung forward and connected his fist with Michael’s jaw.
The next thing he knew he was sitting in his living room with a bag of frozen peas on his eye, held there by your hand and wrapped in a dish cloth.
“My Ma’s a nurse.” He’d told you, “She works nights.” With no one to take care of him you helped him home, the sleeve of your dress ripped and a bruise blossoming on your arm. He was dizzy and unsure how it happened.
“I don’t know if you were really brave back there or really stupid.” He winced at the cold touch of the frozen peas and shivered when his hand covered yours, holding it to his own head.
He remembered seeing you yell at Michael. You threw something at your boyfriend, and Steve remembered you helping him off the ground. His head ringing.
“Are you going to be okay?” If you leave him. He doesn’t want you to. You smell soft like clean linens and cotton. Lemon.
“I should really walk you home.” He said. So he did. And he mapped out the slope of your nose and the way your lips curled. He watched you tilt your head as you debated something about the movie you didn’t get to finish. And he knew then, he knew then that he was going to marry you.
It was good. Really good at first. You were so bright and full of life. Happy. Your smile would pull the sorrow from his body. The soreness from his bones. He’d been so sore the summer he hit his growth spurt. But you’d been with him the whole time.
He could see it now looking back, the melancholy. The odd blue and grey moments that seeped in at the edges of your ray of sun. The days where you hadn’t seen him because you were feeling under the weather. Laid up in bed without visitors.
Your Pa warned him not to marry you.
“She’s not fit for it, son.” A hand on his shoulder when he asked your Pa for permission to marry you. “We shouldn’t have even let it get this far.”
He didn’t understand. Your Parents wanted you to be locked away. Like you’d just stay home with them for the rest of your life. “Her fits,” Your Ma told him, “She’s not what you would want in a wife.” But he loved you. And he reasoned those bad days were worth how good the good days were.
You turned him down initially, crying in your back garden. His knee in the grass as he looked up at you hopeful. “You don’t want to marry me.”
“But I do,” He assured you, “Baby… I love you.” In sickness and in health. He wanted to be by you through it all. He couldn’t imagine his future without you. “I want to marry you.” So he did.
He’d never been happier than on your wedding day. Something that happened much to your parent’s chagrin. He remembers crying, choked up when you walked down the aisle towards him.
The happiest day you’d had in a while. He could see it on your face. Cheeks sore from smiling and many kisses, a soft touch and bubbly champagne. It took those innocent, sweet, loving kisses into something a little more lustful. Timid touches of the first time, for both of you. It was over embarrassingly quick and left him wondering how he could do better next time, wondering if you’d even had the time to enjoy it.
You’d gotten pregnant almost immediately. A joy.
You were so happy, a little sick, but happy. You were glowing and flushed, a kiss goodbye in the morning as he went to work and dinner on the table when he’d gotten home.
But it didn’t last.
The horror of that scarred you. The blood you’d woken up in. A miscarriage a few months into the pregnancy. Not even long enough to show.
That was the first time in the marriage that you hadn’t been able to get out of bed. Steve remembers the routine. Kissing you awake, you’d smile and hum. He would get in the shower and you would start breakfast. He’d find you in the kitchen and wrap his arms around you, hand splayed wide over the growing life inside of you.
And then it was gone in an instant. He would try to kiss you awake and you’d push him away. Weepy and tired. It had begun a downward spiral that he didn’t know how to help. This was met with a snarky comment by your Ma. An ‘I told you so’. It didn’t help.
So he hired someone to help you around the house. Someone to cook and clean. Lucille who could keep you company while he was at work. And you eventually came around. You were happier, but the shadow was always there. A little emptiness in your eyes when you would gaze off into the back yard. The vacantness when he would ask you a question.
This is what they meant. Your parents. That’s what Steve thought when you screamed and cried, throwing things at him. The simple question of whether you should try again. “I’m sorry,” You said later, your hand over your face sunken down on the bathroom floor. The tile hard on his knees as he sunk down to sit beside you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry.” It broke his heart.
“It’s okay sweetheart.” A kiss to your hair, “We don’t have to.” This was enough. But it didn’t stop another pregnancy from happening. Less happiness this time. But you seemed to cheer at the thought. The prospect. He would find you in the kitchen with Lucille instead of her coming to wake you later. He bought you seeds when you said you wanted to try to plant in the back garden. Pounds of mulch and fertilizer he helped you lay over the weekend. Little sprouts of zucchini and your attempt at watermelon.
He was naïve. He thought you’d been happy this whole time. When the entire pregnancy you were just waiting to wake up in blood. The death of another child. The fear of that. You’d given birth to what would have been your second born. A sweet little boy you couldn’t bear to hold.
Full of cholic and wailing. He didn’t know what to do. Steve didn’t know how to help you and he felt useless, bottle feeding his son formula and staring at your back as you gazed vacantly at the wall.
He lay the boy in his bassinet, sleepy and full. And curled himself around you. He thought you’d be happy. Your baby was healthy. He thought maybe it was just the loss of your first child that made you so sad. He thought maybe you’d be okay now.
But you weren’t.
It only seemed to get worse. The anger, the yelling, the crying. The vacant stares and isolation.
“We should have locked her up.” Your Ma was unrelenting, “With the rest of them.” Steve asked them to stop coming around. He couldn’t imagine putting you away like that. His Ma told him about the asylum. How they treated people. You were better off with him.
He talked to a Doctor. Someone who might be able to help him, even if he was a little biased.
“She has depression.” Simple. Easy. “We can do electroshock therapy in these instances, usually.” He didn’t know what else to do. So he made the appointment.
You screamed at him that night. Told him no. You’d broken a lamp. Sobbing and shaking, “You think I’m crazy.”
“No, sweetheart, I just want to help you.” A sniffle, a plead. “This is what the Doctor recommends.” You shake your head, grabbing a fist full of hair.
“I don’t like it.” You cry, “I don’t want to. I’ll try harder.” You reason, and he looks at you with despair. “I’ll try harder.”
“I just want you to be happy.” He cries. He doesn’t know what to do. And for the first time he really understands that you don’t know what to do either. He cancels the appointment.
 That night you wrap yourself around him and he holds you. “I don’t know how to be happy.” You whisper into his neck, “I do want to be happy.” A kiss to your cheek.
“We’ll figure it out.” He truly believed it.
The next day you were a little less blue and he woke you with those soft kisses and you didn’t push him away. Baby James, who had always been restless found comfort in your arms, laying on your chest while sitting in your lap. The sweet babe’s hair curled in your finger while you read the paper, chatting softly to Lucille when Steve came down for breakfast.
It gave him hope.
You started talking to him. He started accommodating you better. Helping where he could and standing back when he couldn’t. There were still those days dipped in blue. Days where you couldn’t get out of bed and where you didn’t take care of yourself. The days where he would bring you what you needed and leave you alone. But then there were days where you’d beat him from bed. You’d make breakfast like you used to, James on your hip. Singing in the kitchen.
Days where he would find those little bits of you that he remembered and not the person you fought against. But it hits him like a realization that you were this person the whole time. They were every bit of you just like the playful smiles and the way you fixed his hair with your fingers, the way you straightened his tie and told him to be home on time. You were the same person even if you were just laying in bed and weepy and tired, a soft I’m sorry and curled in on yourself wanting to disappear.
You were the same person either way. And he loved you regardless.
You sit out in the back garden and get sun, while James toddled around. You said maybe you should have a barbecue for his birthday. How you went with Lucille to the store and saw sparklers for sale and bought three packs, how maybe you should give little James a sibling.
It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be.
And he wanted to be with you for all of it. He’d loved you the moment he saw you. And watching you, a full person in front of him and not the mirage of just a beautiful woman with a soft gaze, he knew that his gut instinct was right. He knew that he was right to want to love you. He knew that he was right to marry you and he knew that there would be blue days. And watching you chase after your son barefoot in the back garden, four new vegetables added to your garden and the soft way you’d wrap your arms around him later while he was brushing his teeth he realized that he wouldn’t change anything.
In sickness and in health, he wanted to be with you for all of it. Didn’t matter either way.
329 notes · View notes
viking-raider · 4 years
Text
Of Truth and Justice - Part III
Summary: Calea learns what she can from the Para-Demon’s blood and wakes where Clark has taken her.
Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x OFC
Word Count: 8,787
Parts: I II
Rating: PG-13 - Justice League!AU, Language, Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Minor Character Death
Inspiration: Something that’s been on my Muse’s brain after watching Justice League a couple of times.
Author’s Note: TY to the amazing @wondersofdreaming​​ for being a stellar Beta! Tell me what you think!
Tag List: @jennylovelyheart​, @peakygroupie​, @jessevans​, @rosie-loves-things​, @ohjules​, @mary-ann84​, @omgkatinka​, @the-freak-cassie-131​, @wardl0w​​, @agniavateira​, @cap-barnes​, @romyr4​, @michelehansel​, @kaatelyyynn​, @badassbaker​, @mrsaugustwalker​, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe​, @severuined​, @supernaturalvikingwhore​, @bellastellaluna​, @wondersofdreaming​, @thisisntmyrightera​, @michelle-1185​, @winchwm​, @royallylazy​, @sofiebstar​, @worldicreate​, @agniavateira​, @fantasygirlsuniverse​, @witches-of-discovery-a​, @xuxszx​, @ayamenimthiriel​, @keiva1000​, @fantasygirlsuniverse​, @itsreigns​, @constip8merm8​, @scorpionchild81​, @mylifefallingupthestairs​, @onlyhenrys​, @luclittlepond​, @ellixthea​, @lebguardians​, @geralt-yennefer-jeskier, @cherrybloomn​, @p3nny4urth0ught5​, @iloveyouyen​, @hollydaisy23​, @mcuimagination​, @psychosupernatural​, @sweetlybigdragonn​, @whitewolfandthefox​, @moviemonzy​, @the-soot-sprite​, @hell1129-blog​, @trippedmetaldetector​, @captaingothgirl1996​, @dont8mind8me8eue​, @peaky-marvel​, @desperate-and-broken21​, @monstersnmoney​, @dancingwendigo​, @redhot-mystacism​, @thereisa8ella​, @black-ninja-blade​, @oddduckthatgirl​, @rosewinx​, @henrythickcavill​, @tinabean37​, @hnryycvll​, @msblkfire84​, @romangenesius​, @emelinelovesjc​, @strangerliaa​, @lovieebby​, @pinksdaydream​, @fanfictionaddiction99​, @seb-owns-these-tatas​, @oh-for-fic-sake​, @sauvage-et-libre​, @mis-lil-red​, @angreav​, @crazyandanonymous4u​, @the-mighty-jellybean​ @henrycavell​, @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair​, @iam-laiya​, @worshipping-skarsgard​, @thetruthandotherstories​, @ruthoakenshield​, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​, @theonetheycallhannah​, @nina-skyee​, @thatgirly81​, @inanna999​, @suueeeeeee​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8​, @beckster07890​, @daddys-littlewhitegirl​, @magic-and-the-macabre​, @stxphmxlls​, @radaofrivia​, @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​, @starstruckkittyangel​​, @heartfelt-pen​​
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Clark carefully set up the Sol-Gel Chamber inside the Fortress of Solitude.
He stood over Calea in the Gel, the beat of her heart had grown stronger as time progressed, giving him hope that she was going to recover. Running his hands through his hair, Clark had one of the Kryptonian Bots watch over her, while he went to secure the rest of the Fortress.
He wasn't gone long, when Calea thrashed in the Gel and sat up, ripping the mask off her face and looking at the bot, startled. Climbing out of the Chamber, Calea pressed her back against the wall and glanced around her foreign surroundings. The Bot made a beeping whirl sound and the door of the room opened, revealing a startled and excited Clark.
“Calea!”
“Clark!” She relaxed seeing him. “Where the hell am I?” She asked, eyeing the Bot.
“The Fortress of Solitude.” He replied, dismissing the Bot out of the room.
“Why?” Calea asked, eyes panning around.
“Well, I just felt it would be safer for you.” He admitted, his face slightly warm. “So, I brought you and the Sol-Gel Chamber here.”
“Where's Ryder?”
“I don't know.” He frowned, then rushed forward, grabbing her as her knees gave out. “You're still weak.” He whispered, picking her up in his arms. “What were you thinking, drinking that Para-Demon's blood, Calea?” He asked, carrying her out of the Chamber he set the Sol-Gel up in.
“I was thinking, I wanted to find out what he was looking for.” Calea replied, resting her cheek against his shoulder, exhausted. “Ryder's going to kill you, when he finds us.”
Clark chuckled. “I doubt that.” He smiled, carrying her down a long hallway. “Unless he has Kryptonite, which I highly doubt, since there isn't any more, and I'm the only one that knows where we are.” He explained to her, stepping in front of another door before it opened. “This is the only bedroom I have, but I don't have to sleep, unless I want to or my brain is exhausted, so you can have it.” He told her, setting her down on his bed.
“There's a bathroom right there.” He motioned to a secondary door. “I'm sure you'll want to wash the Gel off. Um..” Clark frowned, seeing her soiled clothing and stepped into the space he used as a closet and pulled a shirt and pair of pajama bottoms off the hangers. “You can wear these, until we can get your clothes clean.” He offered, setting the shirt and bottoms on the bed beside her.
“Thank you.” Calea replied, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.
Nodding, Clark stepped out to give her privacy to fix herself up. Calea stood up and glanced around his room, before going into the bathroom. The water was cold as she stepped under the spray of the shower head, shivering. But, she didn't mind, she just wanted to wash up and get her mind straight. The Para-Demon, Kulas's blood had shown her what had happened to her people, the death of her father, the apparent fact that Steppenwolf was looking for more than just the Mother Boxes; the League was correct in that assumption. Calea knew what it was Steppenwolf was looking for, but had no clue where they were hidden. She leaned her forehead against the shower wall, water cascading down her shivering back as tears mixed with the water droplets dripping from her hair, turning cold as they fell from her cheeks and down the spiraling drain.
Sniffling and turning off the tap, Calea pulled a towel off a rack built into the wall and dried off. Slipping on the clothing Clark so generously provided for her and stepped up to the door, glancing around it for a moment before it opened. Peeking down both sides of the hallway, Calea picked a direction and followed it around a bend and down a corridor with three displays on either side that held an outfit, Superman's outfits. One looked like a set of armor, another was the normal Superman outfit Clark wore and the other was black and silver.
“It's my regeneration suit.” Clark's voice echoed to her. “It helps me recover, when I've been injured.”
“Or come back from the dead.” She smiled at him.
“That too.” He smiled back, then held up a bag that was in his hand. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
Smiling more, Clark took Calea down to the foyer area of the Fortress, the windows there open and looking out over the frozen tundra of the Antarctic. There was a modest table there, as well as the statues of Clark's birth parents, Jor-El and Lara. Calea studied them, while Clark pulled the take-away boxes out of the bag, she could see Clark in both of them, his father's nose and jawline, his mother's eyes and cheekbones, both of them looked beautiful, even carved out of stone, she could sense they had been good people.
“So, there's Chinese take-out in the Antarctic, I'll have to give them one hell of a Yelp review.” She giggled, sitting down at the table with him.
“Ah, well.” Clark chuckled, grinning like mad. “I don't have a kitchen here. So, I just popped over to New Zealand to get something.” He explained to her, picking up his chopsticks. “Do you need to eat?” He asked, popping a snow pea in his mouth.
“What do you mean?” Calea replied, helping herself to the chicken dumplings.
“Well, I don't technically need to eat, or sleep.” He explained, after swallowing. “I get my energy from the Sun. Though, I do sometimes get mentally tired and a good nap does the trick.”
Calea rested back against her chair, pondering his question as she chewed her dumpling. “I don't, can't, eat, while in the Sol-Gel, but it still gives me the type of nourishment I need to survive. I've never tried not eating, while I was out of it. We can go without sleep, if we want too. But, I rather enjoy sleeping, the days don't seem so long, when you sleep.”
“That's true.” he agreed, nodding. “I like doing both, food tastes a lot better than the Sun.” He joked, making Calea roar with laughter. “I haven't been sleeping much though, I don't even know why I keep doing it, knowing I don't have to and I'll just end up having nightmares.”
“When you make a habit of something, they tend to be hard to break.” She sighed, glancing out the windows. “What is this place?” She asked.
“My Fortress of Solitude.” He replied, looking out at the snow and ice swept landscape. “It was a Kryptonian Scouting Ship my father, Jor-El, sent a long time ago to find out if they could use it as an outpost and a place of refuge.” He explained to her. “The Humans found it in the Arctic a few years ago. When I heard about it, I found a way into the group that was studying it and checked it out.”
“That's when I learned who I really was, where I came from and how I got here. So, I took it and brought it here to the Antarctic, away from everyone and everything.”
“Well, even Superman needs a vacation from the world every once in a while.” She assured him with a sweet smile. “Why did you bring me here?”
“I don't know.” He answered. “I was just going to let you be back at your place, but I-” He shook his head, he'd been trying to rationalize his choice in taking Calea to the Fortress since the compulsive idea came over him. “I just didn't feel like you were safe there, even with my being with you.”
“That place has been a safe haven for me for a very long time. No one has ever found it, without being told here it is.”
“I know.” He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “It just felt safer with you here.”
“With you.” She teased him, nudging her knee against his.
“Maybe.” Clark rubbed at his neck and didn't meet her eye.
“Where in Romania was that swarm of Para-Demons?” She asked, after a short silence.
“North of a mine called Rosia Poieni.” He replied, finishing off his egg rolls.
“Would you show me?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.
“Um..” Clark frowned, wiping his mouth and getting up. “Follow me.”
Clark led the way to a study-like room and up to a console whose monitor was made of Liquid Geo. Typing on the console, the Geo changed and solidified into an Earth shaped orb. The Geo trembled for a moment, then changed shape again, this time showing the country of Romania.
“The Mine is here.” Clark said, pointing to the west of Romania. “And the sight of Steppenwolf's Para-Demons was here.”
“Seems terribly random.” Calea frowned, shaking her head. “What is it?” She frowned, seeing the change in Clark's expression.
“There's trouble.” He said, striding out of the room. “Stay here, I'll be back as quickly as I can.”
“Well, being Superman, that should be faster than I can blink.” Calea deadpanned, smirking at him.
Calea made sure Clark was well and gone, before taking one final look at the map, going back to his room and changing into her now dry clothing. With a deep breath, picturing the place in her mind, and with a crackle of energy, Calea was gone.
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It was dark, when Calea suddenly appeared in the forest to the north of the Rosia Poieni mine. There were still rotting Para-Demon bodies littering the ground, the smell, even in the chilly night air, was like an overripe garbage dump in hundred degree heat, it made Calea's nose wrinkle and her face twist. She picked her way through their bodies, pushing some aside, looking for any clues to their reason for being here, but had no more luck than the others. Sighing, she moved through the treeline, towards the edge of the mining pit. The old copper mine was almost a mile wide and half a mile deep, before it started branching out into mine shafts.
“What are you doing, Steppenwolf.” She muttered to herself, scanning the deep crater and leaned forward as she saw a twinkle of light for a moment, in the deepest part of the pit.
“Hm.”
Narrowing her eyes, Calea hopped down several of the rows leading down into the pit, jumping down two and three at time, before skirting around until she was closer to the source. Her ears picked up the sound of movement further below, and knew it couldn't be Humans, it was too dark for them to be mining this late at night. Tipping her head back and sniffing at the air, Calea still smelled the stench of dead Para-Demons, but also caught the scent of living Para-Demons. Growling, she descended the rest of the way, making sure to be quiet and keep down wind so they didn't scent her out.
Coming around and crouching down, Calea saw three Para-Demons standing around the opening to one of the mine shafts, guarding it and whatever was inside of it. Glancing upward, Calea noticed that the shaft lined up with where the League battled the swarm of Para-Demons earlier.
“They were standing on it.” She whispered, shocked.
Biting her lip, Calea slowly eased into the direction of the Para-Demons, wanting to get as close to them as possible before attacking, so any other Para-Demons in the area wouldn't be fully alerted to her presence until it was too late. She was only a few yards from them, when the wind shifted directions, blowing against her back and towards the Para-Demons, warning them instantly to Calea's vicinity. Making the most of it, Calea zoomed forward, her powers already reaching their peak, as she grabbed the closest Para-Demon to her.
Electricity crackled down Calea's arms and flowed into the Para-Demon's body as she gripped it by the arm and throat. It trembled and twitched as the high voltage electricity coursed through it, before she tossed it aside and took on the remaining two. She hissed as one of them swiped at her, claws catching her cheek as she tried to duck out of the way. Dropping to a squat and twisting, Calea kicked the Para-Demon's legs out from under it and smashed her fist through its skull.
“Killing your own kind, youngling?” A raspy voice asked as Calea killed the last Para-Demon.
“Steppenwolf.”
She hissed, dripping the creature's body and turning around to face him. “They're not my kind, not any longer. You and Darkseid saw to that.” She growled at him, shaking, as all her pent up power reached a fevered pitch.
“They should have given me what I wanted, I would have let them live.” Steppenwolf replied, smirking.
“That's a damned lie and you know it.”
Steppenwolf shrugged, the smug smile on his lips never faltering. “Perhaps you'll be more intelligent than the rest of your Race and tell me where what I seek has been hidden.”
“How am I supposed to know where they've been hidden? I was a baby, when my People took them from you and Darkseid.” Calea spat venomously. “Even if I did know where they were, I sure as hell wouldn't tell the likes of you.”
“Stubborn, just like your father.” He laughed at her. “But, no matter. Soon, I will find where you Selians have hidden them on this pitiful rock and with Mother's help, it will be glorious.” He smirked as a beam of light came down over him and teleported him away.
The bright light left spots in Calea's eyes as the dark night filled the mining pit again, but she didn't let it deter her. Turning on her heels, she stepped over the dead Para-Demons and into the mine they were guarding, doubting there were anymore inside, knowing they would have come out already if there were.
Eyes glowing that electric blue and aiding Calea to see in the pitch black shaft, she glanced around and saw nothing out of the ordinary for a mine; scraped and rough walls and ceiling, the dirt floor strewn with bits of rock, metal rails to carry out loads of rock and cooper, and bits of scrap from blasting deeper into the Earth. It smelled of damp gravel and Earth, musty, with the metallic ting of copper, the lingering scent of sweaty bodies and petrol, from the generators powering the string of lights along the hewn walls and sump-pumps, to clear out the patches of stagnant water. There was also the lingering, but noticeable scent of Para-Demons, they had been down here at some point recently, telling Calea that she was heading in the right direction.
She stopped, coming to a Y-shaped fork in the shaft and sighed, one of the shafts was blocked off with a barricade. So, taking a couple steps into the shaft to the left and taking a couple of whiffs, she turned around and went back to the blocked off shaft. Leaning over the barricade and picking up the Para-Demon scent again, she pushed the barricade aside and started in, she could feel the shaft start to angle more sharply downward, the air around her growing chilly and thick. Something about this shaft felt drastically different from the others, and not just in temperature and atmosphere, it made Calea's skin ripple with goosebumps and a shiver raced down her spine, it felt foreboding and somehow older than the surrounding area.
The deeper Calea went the rougher the shaft became, like they started to mine it, but gave up for some reason, blocking it off to prevent anyone from going down it again. The walls and ceiling looked safe and stable enough, there were clear lines of copper in the walls, so it wasn't lacking valuable resources that would prevent them from wanting to continue on with it, confusing Calea to why they would stop and hole it up.
It wasn't until she hit the dead end of the shaft that she saw what it was that possibly stopped their continued excavation.
Where the rough shaft ended, a small chamber opened up. It was wide enough for her fingertips to touch the walls with her outstretched arms and tall enough for her to fully stand up. The walls and ceiling were perfectly squared and smooth, or at first glance, they looked smooth. A closer look revealed there were markings on the walls, nothing Human either.
“Holy fuck.” She gasped, recognizing them.
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“Calea, I'm back.”
Clark called, entering the Fortress after saving a large group of people from an apartment fire in London. “Calea?” He called out again, when he didn't get an answer. “Shit.” He snapped, seeing the Liquid Geo still up in the shape of Romania.
Keeping his black and silver suit on, in case there was a need to get in a fight, Clark made his way over to the mine. Searching around, he spotted the dead Para-Demons at the entrance of a shaft and took the clue. Clark caught the scent of his body wash Calea used to get clean and her own unique smell, and picked his way through the mine until he came to the fork and the shoved aside barricade. He heard the quick pounding of her heart and breathing at the end of the shaft and wasted no time getting to the end of it.
“Calea?” He called out to her, his voice echoing back.
“Clark?” Her voice echoed in reply.
“What are you doing down here?” He asked, looking around the strange room.
“Looking for answers.” She replied, fingers tracing the symbols on the wall in front of her.
Clark frowned and stepped up behind her. “What are these?” He asked, looking at the symbols over her head.
“Original Solean.” She replied and leaned closer to one of the symbols, so worn, it was almost unrecognizable.
“What?” He snapped, looking down at her.
“You heard me.” She snorted, sliding over to the next column of symbols. “Steppenwolf is looking for two things that go with the Mother Boxes. Well, one thing that goes with the Mother Boxes and another that can destroy the Mother Boxes.” She explained to him.
“My People took the two objects not long after Darkseid had them made, hoping they would weaken him, then hid them somewhere here on Earth. But, obviously, that didn't work because he had the Mother Boxes made.”
“What are the two objects?” Clark asked, a crease between his brows.
“One is a Key that's supposed to unlock the full power of the Unity and the second is another Box, of some sort.” She answered, then growled. “I can hear my mother yelling at me for not paying closer attention to my tutor, on early Selian history.” She huffed, arms dropping to her sides in defeat.
“That Para-Demon's blood told you this?”
“Not exactly.” She told him, rubbing her face. “It showed me the day Steppenwolf invaded Selion and killed everyone, my parents included. He killed my father, who killed someone else about to tell Steppenwolf where these objects were. In full retaliation of what my Father did, Steppenwolf had the entirety of Selion turned into Para-Demons, and after he left, my mother told one of her Servants what it was he was looking for, but not where to find them.”
“But, you're sure they're here on Earth?”
“If Steppenwolf is searching Earth for them, they have to be here and this room is proof of that much.” She replied, motioning around the room.
“What is it?” Clark frowned, watching a light bulb turn on in her eyes.
“Lore.” She said softly, eyes panning around the room. “That's what this room is telling. The Lore of Selians colonizing Earth, seven thousand years ago.” Her head and eyes snapped up to Clark. “The Key and Box aren't in this room, but it tells the Lore of how Selians started living on Earth. That's what he's doing, why it's taking him so long to start the Unity.”
“He's scouring the Lore of the Selian-Humans, hoping to find a mention of the Key and Box in one of the stories.”
“Then, we have to beat him to it.” Clark said, sharing her frenzy.
“I have to get to the Heart.” She said, antsy.
“The what?”
“I'll explain it, when we get there.” Calea replied, holding out her hand. “Take my hand.”
Without hesitation, Clark took Calea's hand and felt the pop of electricity at their touch, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and in a flash, they blinked out of the mine and appeared inside a rather large space ship.
“The Heart.” Calea smiled, motioning to the space around them. “This is the ship Ryder and I arrived on Earth in.” She explained and let out a low whistle, making lights around the craft slowly turn on, showing off the hanger they were standing in.
“Where is this hidden?” Clark asked, looking around.
“Somewhere under Manhattan, I think.” She replied, frowning. “It's been a very long time since I've visited here without teleporting, and so much has changed since we hid it. It was the Heart of the Selian Eternal Fleet.” She elaborated. “I.E the name for it.”
Pressing her hand to a panel beside a door and opening it, Calea quickly walked down a corridor, the sole of her boots clinking as she went. Clark followed after her, still checking the ship out as they went and entered a second room.
“Your bedroom?” He smirked, it still smelled like her, even after all the time being left dormant.
“Yep.” She smiled back at him, fingertips lighting on the spines of books on a shelf by her bed. “There you are.” She chimed, pulling a thick book off the shelf and walking backwards until she could sit down on her bed.
“The Lore of Selians and Earth.”
Clark sat down beside her, tilting his head at the book as she flipped it open. “Do you have any idea where to look?”
“Not even the slightest.” She laughed, scanning the index. “Hm.” She frowned and got up again, pulling another book off the shelf.
“The battle of Apokolips.” Clark read out loud. “The third war?” He frowned at Calea.
“Selians and Apokoliptians have been battling each other ever since they believed we were abandoning our birthright as Rulers of the Universe, being the first Race. It was the third war, the War of Power, that my Grandfather died and my Father became King. Then, a few years later, the War for Earth took place.” She told him, opening the book.
“Ah, here we go.” She said, finding the chapter she was looking for and started reading it to Clark. “It was the third war that the Apokoliptians created a Key and Box, in an attempt to defeat the Selians once and for all. But, King Gretan—my Grandfather—sent his best men to Apokolips to stop them before they could prevail, and hoped to use it against the Apokoliptians themselves.”
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“Mikel and Tristan,” Gretan said as the two men approached his throne. “Thank you for coming, on such short notice.”
“Of course, my liege.” Mikel replied as they both bowed to him. “How can we be of service?”
“It has been brought to the attention of our spies and scouts, that the Apokoliptians have created two objects that could bring about our destruction. We must get our hands on these objects, so we can prevent them from being used.” Gretan explained to them.
“I'm sending you both to Apokolips, to steal these devices and bring them back here for safe-keeping.”
“We will get ready right away, my liege.” Tristan assured him.
“Excellent.” Gretan replied and nodding his head, dismissed them.
Tristan and Mikel left as soon as they were able, not wishing to lose any time, knowing that the Apokoliptians weren't wasting time either. Arriving at a safe zone in Apokolips and meeting up with a spy and scout, Mikel and Tristan learned where to find the objects they were tasked with obtaining.
“I must warn you.” The scout said, being frank with them. “One of our scouts has already tried infiltrating the lab they are located in. He was captured, interrogated and killed.” He told them, bluntly.
Mikel and Tristan exchanged expressions, but steeled themselves. They couldn't, and wouldn't, let their King and People down. Getting the rest of the report, a layout of the lab, surrounding areas and whatever else the scout and spy had to tell them, Tristan and Mikel made their way towards their destination. They stayed low and skirted around buildings, narrowly escaping notice a few times as they made it inside the perimeter of the city outside the safe zone. Finding an empty building to hide in, Mikel pulled out the map provided for them and found where they were in relation to it and where the laboratory was in relation to them.
“We're two klicks away from the lab.” Mikel said, pointing to the red dot that marked the lab they were making their way towards. “There's two security checks between us and it, not to count the tight security they have around the lab, especially after the first attempt to steal what's inside said lab.”
“Do we know what we're looking for, exactly?” Tristan asked, studying the map.
“According to our intelligence, they're the only things in the lab.” Mikel answered, rubbing at his tired face. “So, they shouldn't be that hard to spot.”
“Or carry, all we need is something to slow us down.”
The knob to the room they were crouched in started to rattle. Quickly hiding the map and melding into the dark shadows of the room as the door opened, Mikel and Tristan watched the Apokoliptian enter the room, the door swinging shut behind him. Holding their breaths and waiting for the opportune moment, Tristan took a silent step out of the shadows and up behind him, swiftly wrapping his arm around the Apokoliptian's neck and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle any sounds he might make, and snapped his neck. Gently easing him to the floor, Mikel searched his pockets and found a passkey, smiling at Tristan as he held it up.
“That solves some of our access problems.” Tristan chuckled, making sure the Apokoliptian didn't have anything else of interest on his body.
“Come on.” He whispered, moving to the door.
Listening through the door for a few moments, then slowly opening it, Tristan and Mikel carefully sneaked down along the wall of the building, checking the walkway around the corner and continued on. They made their way to a wall between them and the middle area of the city. While Tristan worked on getting them through the wall, Mikel kept watch for any Apokoliptians that might catch them. Tristan removed a black kit from his pocket and pulled out a pen-like object, pressing the tip of it to the wall and turned it on. He moved the pen in an arch, just wide and tall enough for them both to squeeze through, the tip of the pen cutting through the thick wall like butter. Putting the pen and kit back in his pocket and kicking the cut out free, Tristan motioned for Mikel to go first, watching his back as he did, then followed after him.
Mikel motioned to the left of them and led the way to their next checkpoint, narrowly getting caught in the process. Tristan gave him a frustrated look and Mikel rolled his eyes, then continued on their way. Taking back ways, deserted streets and hiding in hidden nooks and deep doorways as their enemies passed by. Making it to the last wall in their way to the direct center of the city, that contained all the important and top secret dealings of Apokolips, they pulled out of their map for one more check of the lab's location and readied themselves for whatever they might encountered in the extraction of their mission.
“May Primian protect us.” Mikel whispered, touching the pad of his first two fingers to the space between his eyebrows.
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“Who's Primian?” Clark asked, interrupting her reading.
“Primian was the first Selian to become a Prime.” Calea replied, looking up from the page. “That's why we're called Primes; it's a play on his name. He became a bit of a God to us.”
“Ah.” He nodded, understanding.
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Prepared, Mikel and Tristan breached the last wall and felt the air around them change, thickening with the very real danger they were now in, that they were in the last and most critical stage of their mission. Picking their way through the buildings and walkways towards the laboratory, they used the passkey and found it gave them access to the lab.
The lab was like any lab, bright and clean smelling, but the instruments in it weren't anything you would find in an ordinary lab. Mikel and Tristan split up, looking for what they had come for, checking everything in the room, before Tristan found a door to a side room and went inside.
“Mik.” He called over his shoulder, his eyes glued to what was in the room with him.
“What?” Mikel answered, popping up behind him and looking over his shoulder. “That has to be them.” He said, eye catching what Tristan had found.
“A Box and what the hell is that with it?” Tristan echoed, stepping closer.
It was a circular three inch long by an inch thick, solid bar of silver-like metal with a strange symbol at the top of it. Tristan reached out and picked it up off the stand it was resting on, inspecting it closer, while Mikel looked over the box that sat beside it. He turned it around, checking all of the side and noticed a hole at the top of the box that was the exact size and shape of the bar Tristan was holding in his hand.
“It's a Key of some sort.” Mikel said, showing Tristan the hole in the Box.
“Does it open the Box?” Tristan asked, frowning.
“Don't.” Mikel hissed as Tristan tried inserting the Key. “We don't know what this thing does, and I'd rather not find out in a confined space.”
Tristan nodded and opened a satchel he had been carrying and slipped the key into the inside pocket. “Quickly, let's get going before anyone comes.”
Holding the satchel open, Mikel slipped the Box in and fastened the flap closed. Making a sweep of the room to ensure they didn't miss anything important, Mikel and Tristan left the lab and started retracing their steps back out of the city and to their ship off the planet. They weren't halfway to the wall, when a series of alarms went off.
“Well, that's our cue!” Mikel snapped and started running.
Running with him, Tristan caught the glimpse of Apokoliptians running back and forth in a frenzy, trying to figure out what the alerts were for. They were mere feet from the opening in the wall they made, when one Apokoliptian guard noticed them and shouted to his fellows. Pulling off the satchel, Tristan tossed it to Mikel, who sent it sliding through the hole in the wall and dove after it, sliding through the hole like a player to home base. Turning on his hands and knees, Mikel looked back at Tristan, waiting for him to come through next.
Tristan ducked down to dive through the opening, as a shot rang out, the air stilled after the reverberation wore off. Time slowed to a stop, while Mikel watched a burst of blood spray out from Tristan's side, his pained cry breaking the silence and stillness, a cloud of black dust rising around him as he fell to the ground.
“Tris!”
Scrambling back through, Mikel grabbed Tristan's hand and dragged him through the wall opening, pushing him over onto his back and pressed his hands to the gaping wound on Tristan's right side. Tristan coughed, spots of blood covering his ashen face, he looked up at Mikel. His breathing slowed, his heart pounding, his skin cooled under the press of Mikel's hands and sweat broke out on his forehead.
“You have to go, Mikel.” Tristan coughed again.
“No, not without you.” He shook his head.
“Yes.” Tristan replied, raising a heavy arm and touched cold fingertips to Mikel's cheek. “Do you remember, when I hit you over the head with my sword?” He asked, his pale green eyes glassy.
“I tried to kiss you.” Mikel nodded, looking behind at the scrape of metal as the gateway in the wall creaked slowly open. “But, I only ended up with a lump on my head, for a week.”
Tristan cupped Mikel's cheek in his shaking hand. “You can kiss me now, then you must leave.” He told him, gently. “Please, Mikel.” He begged him, gripping his shoulder.
Shoulders slumping, Mikel removed his hands from the wound and cupped his face, smearing blood all over him, and leaned in. His trembling lips met Tristan's pale cold ones, tears dripping onto him as they kissed. When Mikel pulled away he saw the glassy vacancy in Tristan's eyes and let out a heart breaking wail as he dragged himself to his feet, picking up the bag with the Box and Key, slinging it over his body and stumbled forward, willing himself not to look back to Tristan, knowing he would never make it, if he did.
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“Mikel was able to make it back to Selion with the Key and Box.” Calea read, fingertips following the sentences on the page. “King Gretan had a mighty room to contain the Key and Box, but at King Gretan's death, Crown Prince Calien feared, with the creation of the Mother Boxes and Steppenwolf traversing through the Universe with them on a rampage, that they would no longer be safe in the chamber. So, he hid them elsewhere.”
“That's when he must have sent them to Earth.” Clark said, turning his head to look at her.
“It must be.” Calea replied, turning her head and gasped as their lips accidentally brushed. “I'm so-”
Clark cupped Calea's neck and pressed his lips to hers, his body leaning into hers. Calea paused, the press of Clark's warm lips against hers was confusing for a moment, it had been a long time since she had been kissed. The charge they always generated surged down their spines and Calea kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressed in closer to him, allowing him to deepen their kiss. She moaned at the feel of his tongue running along her bottom lip, before slowly slipping into her mouth, mingling their tastes, rolling her tongue against his, pushing it back for access to his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Clark pulled her into his lap, needing her closeness. Calea ran her hands through his curls, smirking at how soft they were, shifting she straddled his lap and pressed their chests together. Clark frowned, hearing the tone of her moan change and pulled back, searching her face.
“What's wrong, Calea?” He whispered, watching her heart start to pound in her chest.
“My head hurts.” She sighed, the edge of her vision swam and pulsed, a high frequency hum in her ears. “A lot.”
“Cause we kissed.” He gulped, licking his lips.
“No, this is something else.” She groaned, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
“Tell me what to do?” He begged her, rubbing her back.
“It'll pass.” She said softly, already feeling it start too.
“Has that ever happened before?” Clark asked, relaxing as he heard her heart calm.
“Once or twice in my life.” She replied, relaxing against his solid body. “It passes as quickly as it happens.”
“Maybe, you should rest.” He suggested, twisting to the side and laid her down, carefully covering her up. “You're probably still weak.”
Calea caught his hand as he stood up. “Stay with me?”
“I'm not going anywhere.” He smiled at her, gently squeezing her hand, then waved his hand in front of the sensor by the door, like Calea had when they walked in, turning the lights off.
Spotting a chair, Clark pulled it up beside Calea's bed and picked up The Lore of Selians and Earth that still sat on the edge of her bed, flipping open its cover. His fingertips ghosting over the table of contents, then flipped several chapters in, stopping at a chapter titled: the Creation of Man.
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It started seven thousand years ago, it stated, when a group of Selians arrived on what would later be named Earth, three men and three women. They found the planet purely by accident, but finding the water, land and atmosphere habitable and yielding, they decided to stay. Each of the couples went their separate ways, knowing in order to forge new lives on Earth, they would need to separate and sow their oats from different corners. At first, they would return to their landing area and reunite, sharing their growths and changes, their strives and failures. But, the more their societies grew the harder the pilgrimage became, more and more time came between the meetings until the meeting point was forgotten, as well as the reason for the meeting.
Selians had forgotten who they had once been to each other, family and friends. As time progressed they lost all memory of their home world and their abilities as Selians, they became the first Humans. When their paths crossed they would bicker and war, claiming their beliefs and lands were better than the others, forming the Tribes of Men.
A thousand years later, a ship arrived to these Tribes, demanding the objects their ancestors brought with them upon their arrival to Earth. But, none of the Tribes could tell these strange beings where these objects were, let alone what they were.
“You have forgotten your History, your People.”
“No, we made our own History and People.” One of the Humans spat at their feet. “If your People are so advanced why do you not know where they've hidden these things?”
“Because, you were tasked with protecting them and you failed.” the Selian hissed back.
“Not any longer.”
Enraged, the Selians washed their hands of the Humans and went on their way to try and find the ship the original Selians came to Earth in and should have the objects they seek hidden at. They sought out any clues they could find, leading them all over the lands the Tribes of Men occupied. They would find clues here and there to the possible origin of the craft. An old legend spoke of a place that homed large populations of vicious dogs and giant brown furred creatures, leading them to the Carpathian Mountains. Another legend told of a country surrounded by mountains with none of its own and numerous bodies of water. But, the Tribes of Men never found out if the Selians found what they sought, for Steppenwolf arrived on Earth and all efforts were turned in stopping his rampage.
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An alarm started screaming through the ship, startling Calea upright and out of bed. Stumbling through the door of her bedroom and through the winding halls, Clark followed after her.
“Sec, shut off the alarms!” She yelled out in Solean and growled when the noise kept sounding. “Sec, for fuck sake!” She huffed, waving her hand in front of a sensor and stepping into the control room of the ship.
“Sec?” Clark frowned, glancing around. “You named the ship, Sec.”
“Selian Eternal Craft, Sec.” Calea replied, dropping into a seat and working various things on the console until the alarm turned off. “Sec?”
“My Lady?” The Craft replied.
“What's with all the noise?” She asked, leaning back in her seat.
“Alien life detected.”
Calea snorted and rolled her eyes. “Which Alien life, Sec? Mine, his or everything Human on this planet?”
“Six kilometres above our current location.” Sec replied.
Clark and Calea exchanged looks. “Show me.”
A light at the top of the console came on and a wide screen was projected from it, showing where the ship was, the surface and a blinking red dot that was steadily getting closer.
“Identify.” She said, swiveling in her chair to reach another console.
“Scanning.”
“What can I do?” Clark asked, watching her get up and go out of the room for a moment.
“Currently?” Calea's voice echoed to him. “Nothing, unless you can tell me what the fucking is digging through almost four miles of bedrock to a craft no one, but me, Ryder and now you should know about.”
“Couldn't it just be Ryder?”
“If it was, Sec would have told me it was Ryder, he's designed to identify us. So, if it says 'alien life form' it's assuredly not Ryder.” She replied, coming back into the room.
“Scan complete.”
“Spit it out then.”
“Semi-organic life form.”
“Semi?” Calea frowned, lifting a quizzical brow. “What's the non-organic part?”
“Technological.” Sec replied with a beep.
Calea frowned at Clark, head tilting to the side. “Victor?”
“He is half Human and half Cyborg.” Clark nodded, frowning at the rapidly approaching dot.
“Sec, full security measures until I say otherwise.” Calea said, getting up. “Stay here.” She tossed over her shoulder, going back down to her room.
Going into her closet, Calea pulled out several articles of clothing and stripped out of the clothes she had been wearing. Sighing, she slipped on the clothing she pulled out, securing a set of buckles at her thighs, waist and torso, before going back to join Clark, seeing the object was almost on them. Clark looked Calea over in her new outfit and got a Cyberpunk vibe from her, smirking.
“What?” She frowned, catching him out the corner of her eye.
“Nothing.” He grinned, guilty. “You look good.”
“Thanks.” She blushed, shaking her head at him.
“Object arrival, one minute.” Sec chimed.
Drumming her fingers against the console and biting her lip, Calea shook her head. “Remove the security measures and open the hatch.” She ordered, pushing off the console and going to the back of the ship.
“What if it isn't Victor?” Clark asked, keeping in stride with her.
“Then, we kill it.” She snorted, smirking at him as the hatch opened, revealing the massive cavern the ship was housed in, stepping off the ramp.
Clark tensed as he stepped off the ramp after her, readying himself for anything that was about to happen. The minute ticked by and the rumble through the cavern echoed off its stone walls, rock falling and breaking apart on the roof of the ship, before whoever it was finally broke through. Clark relaxed, vision honing in.
“It is Victor.”
“How did he find us.” Calea frowned, shaking her head.
“Clark?” Victor's voice echoed out to them. “Calea?”
“What are you doing here?” Clark asked, looking him over.
“I could ask you the same.” Victor replied.
“We asked first.” Calea answered, lifting a brow at him.
“I received a reading here, about an hour ago.” Victor explained to them. “I thought it was something to do with the Mother Boxes.”
“Nothing here, but us and the ship.” Calea replied, glancing around. “There's nothing that should give off a reading like that, unless Steppenwolf has brought the Boxes into the city above.”
“I've already checked that, there's nothing, that's why I came down here.”
“Has there been any other sign of Steppenwolf and the Para-Demons?” Clark asked.
“None, so far.” Victor shook his head. “What are you guys doing down here?”
“This is a Selian ship.” Calea told him, motioning to it. “The one Ryder and I arrived on Earth in. We came here looking for answers.”
“Answers to what?”
Calea looked up at Clark, who nodded at her. “We should return to the Hall, I'll explain it to everyone there.” She told him with a sigh. “And Victor?”
“Yeah?” He lifted his only brow at her.
“Please, cover up the hole you made.” She smirked at him.
He smirked back and nodded his head. “Will do.”
“Go, I'll meet you there.” Calea told Clark, touching his wrist.
“Bu-”
“I have to secure the ship, I'll be fine.” She assured him, pushing up on her toes and kissed his cheek, a lopsided smirk on her face at Victor's shocked expression. “Off you go, Superman. You don't have to worry about this Damsel always being in distress.” She teased him.
“The world out there needs you too.”
“If you're sure.” Clark sighed, tilting his face down closer to hers.
“I'm positive.” She assured him, squeezing his arm and heading back inside the ship. “Sec, close the hatch.” She said, not looking back over her shoulder to Clark.
“Where have the two of you been?” Victor asked as Clark met up with him.
“Around.” Clark answered, looking through the pinprick of light in the ceiling above them.
“Ryder is pissed with you, by the way.” He told him. “So, expect an earful when we get back to the Hall.”
Clark frowned back at the ship, biting the inside of his lip, then shook his head and took off through the opening Victor had made. Calea paced the control area of the ship and ran her hands through her hair, mind racing. How was a Mother Box signal produced in the same area as the ship? There shouldn't be any type of that technology on the ship.
“Sec, full scan the ship. Inform me of any abnormalities.”
“Right away, my Lady.” Sec replied and started the scan. “Scan complete.”
“Well?” Calea sighed, leaning against the console.
“No abnormalities found.”
“What the fuck!” Calea roared, slamming her hand down on the console. “Why can't anything ever make sense.” She mumbled, dropping limply into the command chair behind her, rubbing at her temples. “Sec, maintain all security measures.”
“Security on full.”
“Good, thank you.” She sighed, rubbing her face and pushing up out of the chair.
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“Where did you take her?” Ryder demanded as Clark entered the Hall of Justice. “And where is she now?”
“Where I took her, is my private business.” Clark replied, undaunted by him. “And where she is, is where she wants to be. She'll be here, momentarily.”
“She better be.”
“You know, I'm a grown ass woman.” Calea's voice echoed through the main hall.
“A grown woman, who downed Para-Demon blood and almost got herself killed because of it.” Ryder hissed, turning towards her. “Then, kidnapped.”
“He didn't kidnap me, you drama queen.” She barked, shaking her head at him. “He saved my life.”
“Then, where did he take you.”
“That's none of your business, and it doesn't fucking mean he kidnapped me, Ryder.” Calea sighed, temples throbbing. “Why are you always like this?”
“I was tasked to protect you.”
“And all you're doing is suffocating me!” She screamed, at her wit's end.
“Let's just calm down.” Diana said, stepping between them. “She's all right and that's all that matters.”
“Did you learn anything?” Bruce asked, looking between Clark and Calea.
“Several things.” Calea replied, eyeballing Ryder.
“Then, let's go discuss them.” Bruce said, motion towards the round table.
The group sat around the table, Alfred brought out various drinks and Calea started to lay out everything that happened since she drank the Para-Demon's blood, while sipping a cup of tea. Clark sat beside her, putting himself between her and Ryder.
“I learned that Steppenwolf is looking for another Box and a Key that goes, not only, with that Box, but also the Mother Boxes.”
“What does the Key do to the Boxes?” Bruce asked, frowning at her.
“I believe the Key makes whatever Box it is in, stronger.” Calea replied with a sigh. “But, this fourth Box, can destroy the Mother Boxes.”
“Well, if it destroys the Mother Boxes, why would Steppenwolf want it?” Diana asked, tilting her head.
“To destroy it?” Calea shrugged. “If he took it out of our hands, we would have one less thing to stop him from using the Mother Boxes. It could also do something even worse than the Mother Boxes, for all we know.”
“Have you had any luck in finding the Key and Box?” Bruce inquired, troubled.
“We, well, Calea, discovered why the Para-Demons were in Romania.” Clark chimed in. “In a mine shaft, directly under where we fought them, was a strange room.” He explained.
“What was in the room?”
“Ancient Solean writings.” Calea picked up. “Part of the Lore of how Selians became Humans and colonized Earth all those years ago.” She took another sip of her tea. “It was then I got the idea that Steppenwolf must be picking through Human-Selian History and Lore, looking for any reference to the Box and Key. Since, when the two were made my Grandfather, Gretan, had them stolen and sealed into a special room.”
“Then, wouldn't they still be on your home planet?”
“Yes, if my Father didn't have them sent here, when Steppenwolf started his rampage through the Universe with the Mother Boxes, fearing that he would come for them next to make himself even more powerful.”
“We were combing through the Lore at the spaceship that Calea and Ryder arrived in, when Victor showed up.” Clark added, glancing at Victory across the table.
“You were at the ship?” Ryder asked, shocked. “You took him to the ship?”
“Victor said, he found a signal that came from the same area, which is how the three of us met up.” Calea continued, ignoring Ryder.
“It was a signal almost similar to the Mother Boxes, but I only found Clark and Calea there.” Victor added, awkwardly glancing at Ryder, whose face was beet red.
“I scanned the ship after they left to return here, but it didn't find anything out of the ordinary.”
Bruce sat back in his chair, rubbing the tips of his fingers into his graying temples. “Is there anything from the Lore you learned to tell us where Steppenwolf could be looking next?”
“Well,” Clark cleared his throat. “I read in one of the books, that a group of Selians arrived here on Earth not long after Humans forgot who they truly were, looking for where their ancestors, the Selians that colonized the planet, had first landed on their arrival, believing that's where this Box and Key were located.” He paraphrased. “I didn't get to finish it, but one of the places they were searching was 'surrounded by mountains, with none of its own, and several bodies of water.' I don't think it said exactly where that is. But, at least it's semi-identifying.”
“Victor, do you think you could find such a place?” Diana asked.
“It would have to be a place no less than six thousand years old.” Calea told him, building on the information. “That's about how long ago it was, when Selians arrived here.”
“I can do some looking around for a place that matches that general description. It might take a hot second.”
“Well, until Steppenwolf makes the next move, we have nothing else we can do.” Bruce groaned, rubbing his scruffy face.
-- Part IV --
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ajokeformur-ray · 3 years
Note
I was thinking maybe if (J x Pat x Reader) made/had dinner together?
Katieeee ~ 🥰💛🥰 hiiiii, darling!!!!😊 I had so much fun writing this! I hope that you enjoy it. It’s been a while since I wrote for the Ledger!OT3 so you’ll have to forgive anything rusty.
Please send @loveletterstoledger some love, she was so kind to read this over for me while it was being written and to tell me if these men were in character. I love you so much, angel!💙
Word count: 1, 714.
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When you had somewhat jokingly said to J several days ago that you liked to live dangerously and that you wished you could do it more often...
... This hadn’t been what you had had in mind.
In fact, if you had known that this was what J had been planning, you would have backpedalled so fast out of that conversation that you would have slipped off the proverbial cliff.
You had been exhausted lately; everything was just too much and so overwrought were you that you barely had the energy to even think about making dinner for the three of you, let alone to actually do it.
You opened the freezer, sifted the contents around, and tried to concentrate on making a list of what you needed more of. 
You liked to do multiple things at once to at least give yourself the feeling of being put together,
But control is an illusion, this you knew, as did J.
So when you dropped the bag of frozen peas because the grip in your fingers suddenly went slack and you didn’t respond to Pat’s gentle calling of your name, J knew that you needed to give up the illusion for one night.
Enough was enough and if there was one thing J didn’t tolerate, it was you suffering in any kind of way.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Pat tried to get your attention once more and you seemed to finally register him as you nodded.
“What? Yeah, just - tired, is all. M’fine.”
You relinquished your grip on the bag of peas and Pat scoffed, his dark brows furrowed.
He, too, couldn’t abide even the idea of you suffering. Keeping you safe and healthy and happy was the one thing which held he and J together, most especially because you knew how to break through Pat’s tendency to jump to the defense quickly, and you could see through J’s attempts to put those very walls up in the younger man.
And love... Oh, there was so much of it between the three of you that sometimes did it feel like a fourth presence in the room, watching over the three human inhabitants and giving them a safe and homely feel when they three were all together at the end of a long day.
Pat shook his head in disbelief. He shot J a look over your shoulder and the elder man shrugged. 
Despite his casual attitude, however, J’s chocolate gaze was pinned on you. He didn’t like this. not one bit.
“You’re not fine. Come here, love.” With one hand on your elbow, Pat reached across the room and somehow grabbed a chair. He pulled it towards you and looked at you expectantly.
When you didn’t immediately react, Pat huffed again and pointedly - but with care - pushed down on your shoulder with the hand that had been wrapped around your elbow. “Sit down before you fall down, Y/N. You’re exhausted. When was the last time you went to sleep?”
“Last night. Haven’t been sleeping well, but I have been sleeping. I’m fine, Pat.”
J had been watching this exchange quietly. He said nothing, but he took in Pat’s tender frustration, your exhaustion and your obvious want for a night for your two loves by your side, where they belonged.
“You, ah - ya’ still want a taste of danger, doll?” 
You eyed J warily but he remained undeterred.
“Why don’t, ah - why don’t the kid and I make dinner, hm? Ya’ can sit and - “ J waved a hand around like he was trying to conjure the words up out of nowhere, “look pretty.” You sat there staring at J in disbelief and he nodded in approval. “Ya’ a natural!” 
You felt your face heat up in a blush at the easy compliment and J’s eyes seemed to deepen as he stood there looking at you, exhausted but still trying to function at your usual level.
You were a strong one; he had taught you that, and he was proud of you.
If J got his way, then dinner would be some paper takeaway menus and a phone call.
But Pat was a natural caregiver and you were worried enough as it was.
The last thing the younger of the two men wanted you to worry about was where the money for the takeaway was going to come from, and so he resolved to make you something.
It had been J’s idea and so the clown was going to help, whether he wanted to or not. 
There was nothing Pat wouldn’t do for you and in truth was J much the same. 
Though the two men were quite different, you were their common interest and the glue which held them together. 
This night was your comfort paramount, so exhausted were you and so desperately did you not even want to have to worry about even the small things.
With the decision made, J began to open cupboards, his eyes scanning the contents before he moved onto the next cupboard, not shutting anything, and Pat swore under his breath and began to move up behind J.
Pat pulled bits and pieces from the cupboards as he went, “J, will you stop? We’re meant to be helping, not create more mess!”
J grunted in acknowledgement that Pat had spoken and the younger man correctly translated the noise to be one of agreement, though J went no further.
He did, however, pointedly slam a cupboard door shut, making Pat clench his jaw against saying something as he began to put a meal together for the three of you. 
The peas you had grabbed earlier, some pasta (catered to any dietary restrictions or choices you had), some spices... a few more things from the freezer...
It had meant to be a group effort to make dinner but what ended up happening was that J leaned against the counter beside the oven top and made sassy comments with his arms folded over his eccentrically covered chest, and you approached Pat once steam began to curl up from the various saucepans and frying pans to wrap your arms around his waist.
You curled into Pat and he hummed, tipping his head back distractedly to awkwardly press a kiss to the nearest parts of you he could reach. 
Pat was fully focused on making dinner and his dark brows were furrowed as he taste tested and then chucked the used teaspoons into the sink. A double dipper he was not.
“Dinner’s ready. J, can you - “
Before Pat had finished speaking, you pulled away from him and J had, already in his hands, three plates. 
And so it continued that at the point where Pat would ask for something, J had already done it, and you realised that J hadn’t just been tormenting Pat.
He had been keeping the younger man company, observing how he cooked and how he preferred his food, and making sure that Pat didn’t hurt himself as he prepared dinner.
J cared and it made your heart swell in your chest at how subtle J’s affections were unless one knew how to look for them.  
Pat noticed, too, and as he grabbed two plates to take them over to the table, he casually kissed J’s cheek. “Getting soft in your old age, J?”
“Care-ful, kid-do,” J’s words were soaked in amusement - he enjoyed the banter as much as Pat did. “This old man’s not slow.”
You three sat at the table and Pat kept an eye on you as you both ate; J, for his part, was more preoccupied with keeping an eye on his younger partners. 
He wasn’t all that hungry, anyway, and he had seen some poptarts in the cupboard... 
To J’s relief, his younger partners had eaten, and he felt a part of himself, a part he liked to hide and otherwise deny even to his own self, become relieved to know that the people he chose to spend his precious time with were taking care of themselves - even if your own hand had been forced.
“Thank you for dinner, Pat,” Instead of simply getting up and starting with the dishes, you sat further forward and wrapped your arms around Pat’s neck. 
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Pat kissed the side of your head and then you turned to the side, slowly unfurling your arms from around Pat and throwing yourself at J, who let you clamber onto his lap before his arms slinked around your waist like a sleepy boa constrictor; ensnared were you by all that the clown was, all that he had ever been and all that he would ever be.
“Someone’s sleepy, hm?”
You nodded, wanting to just... sink into royal purple and charcoal grey and to never again resurface. 
The heartbeat which pounded strongly in your ear was the lullaby which was sending you closer to a threshold consciousness, and you jolted upwards.
You had gotten so good at catching your own fall over the years.
J’s large, hot hand smoothed over the expanse of your back. He didn’t want to let you go, but he knew that you were close to giving in to your exhaustion and the dinner table was not the place for it.
“Here, Pat - let me do the dishes because you cooked.”
You made your way over to the sink with the dishes in your hands and once again did it seem as though Pat and J had a conversation over your shoulder, for the decision was not yours to make.
“A-ta-ta, no.” J seized the plates from you and dumped them in the sink. “Leave ‘em.”
You knew what J was trying to say: the dishes could wait. You, J’s greatest priority alongside Pat, couldn’t.
“Don’t be shocked, but - “ Pat wrapped an arm around you and tugged you into his side, “I’m with J on this one. Dishes can wait.”
Your eyes turned from one chocolate gaze to the other as exhaustion truly swept you up into its current.
Only Pat’s hold on you prevented you from being carried away by it and all you could say was, “cuddle pile?”
Pat’s grin made your heart drop to your stomach and J’s smirk made it melt.
HL OT3: @tsukiakarinobara    @1-800-dead-inside  @antonija89  @hotpacino @call-me-harley-quinn @devilshyenaaa
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might be a weird request but an angsty fic of calum & reader r dating at a party but cal’s been givin the silent treatment cuz the reader did smth clumsy and cal got mad & they argue & at the party a drunk dude is all on her & she’s tipsy/mad/throws a drink on him & ends up bein a big fight & the band hears & sees the guy slap her causing calum go crazy feels guilty bc he wasn’t with her & the band protect her & kicks him out, fluff at the end insp: snooki getting slapped on jersey shore djjdkd
Fine - C. Hood
TRIGGER WARNING: NON CONSENSUAL SEXUAL TOUCHING AND VIOLENCE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS COULD TRIGGER YOU BECAUSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS IMPORTANT!!
I love this idea and I had to watch that video like seven times to get inspiration. I hope you like it! I couldn’t think of a plot for so long!
Original story by sarcastically-defensive17
There was something off with Calum. No rhyme, no reason, no explanation for his bad attitude, just random bursts of anger that led to venomous words falling off of his tongue.
Y/N hadn’t seem him actually happy in a while, and she had no idea what caused his outbursts.
She had been dealing with it, but the more he snapped, the harsher he was. She was starting to really dislike being around him, even more so, being at their shared house.
She had a breaking point, but he hadn’t yet hit it, until one Thursday night she had the girls over while the guys had a night out.
The wine had been passed around and they were all a little buzzed by the time the men returned home.
Shit truly hit the fan when Y/N gestured widely with her glass in hand.
She was always a clumsy person, that was no secret, and usually Calum would tolerate it with a smile on his face.
Until she spilled red wine all over Ashton’s white shirt. Everybody laughed it off, except for Y/N.
She rushed around trying to get the liquid out of the shirt it threatened to stain, and the minute her hands lingered on Ashton’s chest for a minute too long, Calum’s insecurities went haywire.
But in true Calum fashion, he refused to mention it to her until she noticed he was giving her the silent treatment after everybody had left for the night.
“Okay, enough,” she threw the cloth she was holding. “What have I done wrong now?”
Her tone was stern. She was sick of his random outbursts and bouts of silence. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way and she was determined to let him know that.
“Nothing,” came his curt response as he directed a look towards her that told her not to push it.
But she was never one for listening.
“No, Calum. I’m sick of this.” Her jaw was set as she folded her arms across her chest.
He let out a snide laugh, and her heart sank at the sound.
She had no idea what had gotten into Calum, but she really hated it. He was a boatload of insecurities and he took them all out on her.
“What do you have to be sick of? You sure looked fine when you were all over my best mate,” he rolled his eyes, setting his jaw to match hers.
“You’re joking!” She laughed louder than she should have, completely intent on reciprocating the sarcasm dropping from his tongue. “I was trying to clean his shirt, but oh no, I’m guessing in your mind, I want him!”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” he mumbled under his breath, turning to walk away from her.
“What did you just say?” She gaped.
He was scared of losing her. It was no excuse, but he was so terrified of her finding love in another and it made his insecurities flare up. He had been hurt many times before, and he was preparing himself for the worst.
He just didn’t realize how far he was pushing her.
She grabbed onto his shoulder and spun him around to face her.
“What did you say,” she spoke through a clenched jaw. She had enough. She was sick of being made to feel as if she couldn’t be around any other male.
“I said, it wouldn’t surprise me,” he spat and he watched as her face fell slightly.
She shook her head, puffing her cheeks as she did so.
“You are ridiculous, Calum.” Her hands were on her hips and her brows were set in fury, “So first, it was random bullshit that you had a bad day and decided to take it out on me, then you were jealous, and now you’re accusing me of wanting to be with somebody else?”
Her eyes were wide and he offered her no answer, instead choosing to clench and un-clench his jaw while looking anywhere but at her.
“News flash, Calum!” She was shouting now. It wasn’t the first time he had accused her of something similar, “I’m not going to cheat on you, or leave you or whatever! You can trust me!”
He wanted to feel sad, almost hurt that he caused such pain to seep into her tone, but all he saw was red.
“How can I trust you? How can I trust you when you were all over him tonight? Huh?”
The limit was hit. She couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fine, you don’t trust me, then get out.”
There was no room for argument. She disappeared upstairs as he scoffed behind her, collecting a bag full of his clothes and throwing it out onto the front lawn.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m not leaving,” his heart started to hammer along in his chest.
She was calm. A scary sort of calm that sent sweat pooling on his heavy palms.
“I’m not staying in a house with somebody who can’t trust me, Calum.” She blinked, grabbing his keys and snatching the door to their house off of the ring before tossing the car keys to him. “Get out.”
They went back and forth until ultimately, Calum was knocking on Michael’s front door with tears in his eyes.
She was beyond angry with Calum and in pain over the argument with Calum. They hadn’t spoken since.
Unfortunately, the same weekend after she kicked him out, the guys and their significant others were at her house for a celebratory party.
One of their songs had become number 1 in some country. She was far too tired to remember. Especially after Calum had walked in.
She expected to see him, but she didn’t expect the pain that came along with the sight of her boyfriend.
Thankfully, there were more than enough people to successfully help her evade him, but not enough to keep her away from the man who wouldn’t stop chatting her ears off.
His name, Steve maybe? She couldn’t remember. The amount of alcohol running through her veins made sure of it, and she was sure she stopped his intoxicated chatter at least 5 times to ask him for his name.
In her drunken state she managed to catch Calum’s eyes from across the room and she saw his flare once he saw the man standing beside her.
Fingers clicking in her face pulled her attention away from her boyfriend.
“Are you even listening?” A gruff voice asked. It wasn’t the attractive kind of gruffness, like how Calum’s voice is when he first wakes up, but more of a voice tainted by years of cigarette smoke, and alcohol abuse, following a naturally irritating tone.
She smiled at him, intending to return to politely listening to him ramble about his high paying but low effort job.
“Sorry, I saw somebody and got distracted,” she slurred, leaning against the table and rubbing her head. Unknowingly giving the man a perfect view of her cleavage if he were to look hard enough.
A gross smirk worked onto his face and Y/N jumped as his hand connected with her backside.
“Excuse me-“
“Let’s go up to a room, yeah?” His eyes were heavy, and she flinched as he wrapped an arm round her shoulder, roughly groping the flesh he has clasped in his other hand.
“No thank you, I have a boyfriend,” she dug her heels into the ground as he tried to pull her along with him, and she could faintly see Calum’s eyes bore into the two of them.
The man scoffed, “And? I’ve got a dog at home but I still gave the little rat you’ve got upstairs a pat.”
“What did you just say about Duke?” Her anger intensified, her drunken state more worried about defending her dog than focusing on his sleezy proposition.
His hands moved up her waist, brushing her boobs as they continued up.
She shivered at the contact, feeling sick to her stomach.
“Get your hands off of me, you dog hater!” without thinking, she lifted the hand she held her cup in and threw it in the mans face.
He went silent for a moment, barely allowing her heart to beat once before she connected with the ground. Her cheek was throbbing, tears pricking her eyes.
She could barely register the commotion around her, as a head of brown curls flew towards the man and tackled him to the ground.
Three more figures rushed to pull him off of the man, and she couldn’t stop herself from clambering towards him when she saw it was Calum.
Ashton grabbed the man by the neck, dragging him towards the front of the house as Luke yelled at everybody to leave.
“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you,” Calum cooed.
She could barely think of why she was mad at him. In that moment, all she could focus on was the pain in her cheek and the feeling of his arms around her.
He ordered somebody to bring him ice, before pulling her up the stairs to their bedroom. The same one she had slept in on her own for the past couple of nights.
Except for whoever delivered the ice, they were alone in the room. Duke worked his way onto the bed to lay in his owners lap as Calum inspected her face.
“M’sorry,” she whispered into the air, her head feeling as if it were swaying. The ache intensifying from where she hit the ground.
“What for, baby?” He asked, pressing a package of frozen peas to her cheek.
“That guy touched me. Maybe he thought that I want to cheat on you like you do,” she was slurring her words. The whiskey in her blood was not doing her any favors as she tried to communicate with her boyfriend. “I don’t want to cheat on you. I love you too much, you insecure bastard.”
He snorted at the seriousness in her tone. She was observing him with a purpose.
Her mouth was moving, lacking the filter provided from her brain.
“How could anybody want to cheat on you? Have you seen you? You’re hot as fuck.” Her words were slightly muffled by the bag of peas. “I’m sorry I ruined the party. I didn’t want him to hit me.”
Calum put his hands on either side of her face, making sure to watch her cheek.
“Baby, you didn’t ruin the party.”
“But everybody left-“
“And? I don’t care about everybody else,” Calum’s eyes bore into her bleary ones, and he struggled to think of why he felt so insecure in their relationship. “I care about you, and only you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you tonight, love. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”
He truly felt horrible. If he were with her, he could have kept her safe. He could have kept that sleezy guy away from her. Kept his hands off of her.
“S’okay, Cal.” She grinned behind the bag of peas, “You showed him whose boss!”
Her drunken state wasn’t the most ideal for them to discuss the issue of the past few weeks, but he made a note to do so in the morning.
He knew deep in his heart that she loved him, and it was about time he grew up and put trust into her as she did with him.
“I’m sorry he touched me,” she pouted looking down at her body. “His hands felt gross. Yours are better.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close to him.
“He won’t touch you again, baby. I promise you.”
“Thank you, macho man,” she relaxed against him, letting her eyes fall shut with a sigh. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
“Also,” she sat up, letting the bag fall from her face. “If you tell me you don’t trust me again, then you can walk that fine ass out the door and I’m keeping our son.”
He chuckled softly at her, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the reminder of his disgusting words.
“Okay, Lizzo. I promise, I trust you,” she kissed him quickly, pulling back to let him continue talking. “My fine ass isn’t going anywhere unless your fine ass is right beside me, promise.”
“I do have a fine ass, don’t I?” She beamed at him.
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biisexualemma · 4 years
Text
revenge. oscar diaz
word count: 1332
warnings: cuts and bruises and lots of angry
requested: no but i read a really good imagine on here about the reader getting caught up with the prophets and it kind of inspired this (link here)
plot: you get hurt
a/n: this is something i‘ve had in my drafts for ages so i’m posting just as some sort of content. i’m sort of getting back into writing but it’s taking me a minute. i’ve got a few requests to write and i promise i’ll write them at some point i just need a break lol. anyway hope this helps you guys somehow, i know everything is super heavy atm (and i encourage you guys to keep going and keep talking / posting / having discussions about it) but we all need a break every now and again. so hope this helps you take a break.
masterlist
you knew what was coming as soon as you walked in. you knew what his reaction would be. you winced, clutching your side. you'd been holding in your tears for most of the walk home but as soon as you got through the door, you cracked.
his head snapped in your direction, his heart racing when he saw the state you were in. you were walking closer to where he sat with other santos members around him. blood dripping from your nose, your face contorted as you started to cry.
"osc—oscar," his eyes were wide and furious. he was straight over to you, his friends sitting in shock of you. no one dared even touch you, they knew this. it was common knowledge that you were oscar's girl. whoever did this was already dead.
his hands hovered over your face for a split second, he hesitated as he took in the full extent of your injuries. someone jumped you. "who— what— what happened?" he cupped your face, checking out your nose for any breaks but he saw none, just lots of blood. you cried harder when he spoke to you. his heart was breaking but his anger was untameable at this point. "baby— bebe, who did this? who did it? hm? i'll kill 'em. give me a name, now."
his head was all over the place. he wanted to tend to you but he wanted to put a bullet in the head of the person who did this to you. he could feel you shaking, you shook your head. "pro—prophets— i was walking home when they— they pulled up."
your lip was quivering, oscars jaw clenching. his hands moved to your waist and you flinched. eyebrows furrowed, he lifted your shift carefully, noticing a sizeable bruise forming on your ribs. he stepped back, running a hand over his face. he was furious. "names. give me names, mami."
his voice was low, demanding. you reached out, your arms wrapping round his torso, clinging to him. you could hear his heart pounding. he held you, his face tucked into your neck, his heavy breaths felt against your skin.
you pulled away slightly, his arms still holding you. you described the car and the three prophets who'd rolled up on you. "i—i don't know their names— i didn't recognise them,” you shook your head, hiccuping as you calmed down. the initial shock of it all had set you off but you were ok. you could manage.
"hombres," he called to the other santos members who sat waiting for their orders. his eyebrows were knitted tight, his lips pulled into a tight line. they all rose, knowing what was coming next. "we're out. pack up and get out. now,” they all did as he said, gearing themselves and heading outside where they waited for oscar who still held onto you tight.
"mami," you looked at him with sad eyes. your cheeks were pink, blood still staining you nose and mouth. oscar pulled you into the kitchen, sitting you in on other chairs. he routed through the freezer before pulling out a bag of peas. he handed them to you. "press that to your stomach. ok? keep it there, even if it gets too cold. it'll help,” he turned his back, now digging through the cupboards, pulling out some bandages, gauze, cloths and whatever he could find. he soaked the cloth in hot water before returning to you. he was a pro at this. he knew what helped. he just didn't think he'd ever have to use any of this on you.
he crouched down in front of you, he held one hand to your face and started cleaning up the blood with the damp cloth with the other. you cringed when he dabbed to hard, and he'd mumbled a soft apology. you noticed his hands shaking slightly, his jaw still tightly clenched as he finished cleaning up your face. "it's not broken," he ducked his head. "puts these up there to stop the bleeding and i'll be back ok?" he handed you some cotton wool to put up your nose and stop anymore bleeding.
you grabbed his hand as he stood up to leave. "do you have to go?" you frowned. it was breaking his heart to look at you like that. he looked away for a split second.
"they gotta pay," he tensed. he huffed. "i'm gonna call cesar, ok? he'll come stay with you. but i gotta go handle this. they're not getting away with this."
your eyelashes fluttered. you knew what he meant, you knew what he was going to do. you had to let him do it. you wouldn't be able to stop him no matter how hard you tried. you often turned a blind eye to that part of oscar's life. you preferred not to get involved.
you nodded, mumbling a soft ok. he leaned down, kissing your forehead gently. "go lay down, ok? i'll be back soon,” you nodded again. he pressed his forehead against yours before letting go.
"i love you,” you mumbled before he could leave. "be careful, please."
"love you,” he turned away and left. you knew cesar would be here soon, but while you were alone you let yourself cry some more, stuffing your nose with cotton wool and laying down in your shared bed with the frozen peas resting on your ribs. you just wanted him to come back in one piece. you tried not to think about it but it was hard not to.
it was late when oscar returned. you and cesar spent the last couple hours talking and watching tv and eating. he was good company when he was around, he kept your mind off things. but when you heard the door unlock, your breath caught in your throat. you'd seen oscar is worse states but it still hurt. he walked past you both, he huffed, running a hand over his face. you nudged cesar, and he took the hint, leaving the two of you alone. you moved from the sofa into the kitchen. you touched his arm, trying to urge him to turn around.
"oscar," you mumbled. he turned to face you, his anger was still evident. his jaw clenched and eyebrows knitted tight. you also noticed a purple bruise forming on his cheekbone, and a couple of cuts, a pretty big one above his eyebrow, and another just on his collarbone. you didn't like that he'd gotten himself like this because of you. "you ok?" you were barely speaking above a whisper. you were careful with what you were saying, you knew how angry he was. you also knew how much oscar hated dealing with these things. you knew he wanted out. he didn't want this life anymore. you could see the mix of emotions in his expression.
he nodded. he glanced at you, his eyes lingering as you walked to the cupboard, pulling out a cloth and soaking it with warm water. you stood in front of him again, beginning to clean the cut on his face.
"i'm sorry," you mumbled, your lip quivered uncontrollably. "it's my fault all this happened,” you didn't look him in the eyes but you could feel his watching you. his hands grabbed your wrist to stop you tending to him.
"don't,” he threw the cloth aside, wrapping his arms around you. he was just glad you were here and you were safe. that's all that mattered to him right now. "you're safe. ok? you don't need to worry about 'em again."
you frowned, leaning your head against his chest once more. you tried not to think about it too much. you just nodded, letting him run his fingers through your hair. "i love you."
"i love you, mami,” he mumbled, his head tucked into your neck. he pulled back slightly, your arms still wrapped around him tight. he moved his hands to either side of your face. "tu eres mi alma. nobody's ever gonna hurt you again. ok?"
he pressed his lips to yours gently, careful not to hurt you. he couldn't bare to lose you.
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